Running Through My Head
by IvoryCoral
Summary: Finally updated Chp 8! Thanks for waiting! MF YamiOC Amber could handle just about anything life could dish out. The Pharaoh gets a catty, sarcastic, cynical, defiand slavegirl. BRING ON ALL REVIEWS!
1. Going Under

Amber rolled over in bed, attempting to smack the alarm clock so she could snooze for another few minutes. She rolled back over onto her right side, away from the weak morning sunlight. But the set of four paws walking over her, then her ribs, refused to let her get that extra five minutes. Finally giving up to persistence, she rolled onto her back and stretched in bed. She opened her eyes again when the four paws walked on her stomach this time. Focusing her own vibrantly green eyes on the red furry face and set of golden orbs before her, she smiled ruefully.

"Alright Pippin, I'm up." She grumbled and plucked the animal from her abdomen. The reddish cat, Pippin, mewed once and put his front paws back on her leg as she sat up. "Enough already, you great fuzzy mass." She replied, still not exactly awake yet. She ruffled her long brownish gold tresses and swung her legs over the side of the bed, planting them on the deep carpet. Feeling the deep pull the bed still had on her, and knowing she had to go to work even if she didn't want to, she slumped in her flannel nightgown over to the kitchen. It seemed cold outside, given the window was foggy, so why not have a cup of hot cocoa? After all it tasted worlds better than any coffee she'd ever had, there was no point in switching to the galling stuff now. She sliced and warmed three rolls in the oven, then, once they were properly toasty, she buttered each carefully, so as not to get it all over her hands. What she really wanted, and it was almost nauseating to admit it, was to just pick up and quite her damn job. Lord knows she wouldn't be so constantly irritated, since there would be a lack of perverted boss-man around. An angry sigh escaped her. She didn't need this situation damn it, she was still only 18, only old enough to vote, smoke, and buy porn; not that she wanted to really waste her money on the latter two. And she certainly could afford to, since her parents had left a hefty sum to her as the only living family member they liked. A slight smiled curved her lips as she though about one thing that had gone right since them. Although the many relatives she had had tried any number of tactics to win her wealth, Amber was no slouch at staying on her guard. She knew precisely what they were after, since they otherwise kept a healthy distance from her parents during their lives. They had no other reason to contact her, as the sole beneficiary. At least her lawyer, formerly her parents' lawyer, had done his job well and easily beat down the few attempts at lawsuits that some cousins and even a grandparent had thrown her way. She had sold the house because it stung like fire and ice to stay there, with all those memories. And now, here she was, in a condo of her own, with no one else, alone. Well, maybe not entirely alone, after all there was still Pippin the cat. All this past year she had become rather antisocial, not that that was all that new. She listened to her headphones as she worked, and kept her eyes glued on her computer screen to tell anyone who bothered her to get lost. Somehow, pretending that she could neither see, nor hear them seemed more tactful that just flat out telling them to leave her be. _Besides,_ she though with a sigh, _They probably wouldn't get it anyway. They'd try to drag me out to the pub and get me drunk, or maybe get me laid… Idiots._ She sipped at the cocoa and glanced at the clock on the stove. It was slightly past the point where she should have been dressed. Oh well, being late once wasn't going to kill her. About ten minutes later, she was slipping into her long green skirt; white peasant-sleeved blouse, and knee-high black leather boots. She didn't even bother with a coat, since she knew an almost entirely indoor route to her office. So, snatching her purse off the coat-rack and making sure the door was locked, after Pippin was released for the day, she tucked her keys away and began the long stride to the last building on that block. The half a dozen buildings she passed through were crowded today, most likely due to the chill in the air, but Amber didn't care. She could handle crowds as long as that didn't include trying to communicate with them. As she passed through the last set of doors on the sixth building, she walked briskly, but had to stop a moment. It felt like something was stuck to her foot and she looked down. Just as she was wondered who on earth would mix and pour cement in this kind of weather, her foot sank even deeper, though her weight was on her opposite leg. But both her legs were now sinking deeper into the thick substance and she couldn't pull up out of it. She waved her arms and called, calmly as she could, for someone to give her a hand, but no one even turned a head, or glanced her way. "Hey! Are you all deaf or something?" she actually yelled, now very worried since she was shin-deep in the stuff, whatever it was. "Goddammit OPEN YOUR EARS!" she screamed when she was now nearly up to her chest, and feeling constricted. Clawing at the sidewalk around her seemed to do nothing, except maybe quicken her sinking Now up to her throat, then suddenly her chin, and then just her eyes. She tried to scream but noting came out and she could feel what must have been the weight of an entire world sinking down on her, swallowing her, though by now her senses seemed completely cut off. And she sank down…down…down…

It was too bright this morning. And the bed was far to stiff and hard for her liking. Amber moved gingerly to roll over onto her side, and felt something grainy against her face, like a nail file only much bigger. Something else was wrong too; it seemed much warmer than it really should have been, why? For that matter where were the covers? And now acknowledging the presence of all these odd questions, she did open her eyes. But she had to shut them tight again, because the light was more than enough to dazzle her just then. She gave an incoherent mumble, most likely a curse, and slowly sat up. Again she made the attempt to see without much success and had to throw her hand up in front of her eyes this time. Once her eyes decided to work she felt sick with shock and disorientation again. There was sand all around and several yards to her right, there was some long coarse grass and what she supposed was a body of water, a river or something. There were a few people nearby, but Amber doubted they could help her even if she did ask, since they seemed to be speaking a totally different language. So, with one thing and another, she just stood up, trying to roll the soreness out of her shoulder and started walking. By all logic, if she stayed put, she might become ill from the intense glare of the sun, but if she moved around a bit, she might at least get somewhere and find some help, or figure out where she was and how she got there. It wasn't long at all before she noticed people around her constantly staring at her, not that she really gave a damn. But all the same, it was getting annoying, especially when they started following after her at a distance of about ten or fifteen feet. Something else occurred to her as she glanced back at the gathering of people shadowing her. They were mostly, if not all, men. She supposed that compared to them, she did look rather odd, since they were all of a tan colored skin, and she was so pale, not to mention the great difference of clothing. They were all bare-chested, with something wrapped around the waist, and wearing sandals. A few of them had thick bands of gold, or something like it on their forearms or biceps. Getting a distinct feeling of unease, and listening to it, Amber walked faster, trying to put some distance between them and herself. She could hear them muttering things to each other and to her surprise she caught words like, "Slave, Pharaoh," and "good." She didn't want to hand around to find out what exactly they might be planning for her, so what was the use in walking, when she was perfectly capable of running like hell? She took off not a moment too soon, as she felt a set of hands snatch at her, and just barely miss. But alas, she was not fast enough to outrun them, and there was nowhere to hide in this open terrain. They caught her easily and four of them held her, one man to one furiously flailing limb. She was certainly stronger than average, but not strong enough to throw them off. Thus, the was hoisted, and carried, in a most undignified manner into what seemed a city, or at least a town. It took the better part of an hour for her to finally decide to give up struggling, since it wasn't doing any good anyway. But when she was dumped quite suddenly into a vast expanse of water and hauled back out, her fury rose once more, and she lashed out using her long fingernails this time. Once or twice she snagged flesh and there was a little blood, but no more than that. And she made some rather unsavory remarks and protests as they practically dragged her through the city and paused at what seemed to be the pale stone steps leading up to a palace or temple or something.

A/N: Okay first chapter up. Let me know what you honestly think of it. All reviews and constructive criticism is welcome as are any suggestions for events/ idead for future chapters. All flames will be subjected to the ridicule of me and my little writing/anime/gamer buddies; or else used in this week's weenie roast. Luv Ya!


	2. A Gift Given Thee

Chp 2 up, REVIEW and as always, enjoy. NOTE: If you don't like it, tell me why. As a writer I should know.

In the main audience camber, in wonderfully cool shade and on a comfortable cushioned throne, sat one who was clearly the man in charge here. At present, his head rested against his fist, and he looked exceptionally bored, and probably annoyed as well. He could feel a vein throbbing in his left temple and wished that the idiot babbling in front of him would get to the point and stop wasting time. There was a slight tug on his free arm and he looked down at a little boy, who usually sat next to him, though not on the throne.

"Are you alright brother?" the boy asked quietly, concerned for his older sibling. The elder of the two smiled a little at him, and ruffled his spiky hair.

"I'm fine Yugi, don't worry." He replied in his deep calming voice. Yugi smiled up at him and sat back down, thinking that his brother was too stubborn for his own good in this kind of situation. He sighed at the thought of what it would be like if he were in his brother's place. Yugi was sure his brother was better suited to this, it would probably drive himself absolutely, and in all other ways, completely mad. Having had enough, the elder of the two held up one hand, palm out to stop the speaker's constant irritating drone. "Understand this," he said, and there was definitely warning in his tone. "I will marry when I am good and ready to do so, and I will not be rushed on the matter. Now there isn't any more point discussing it." The man, who had been speaking, looked crest-fallen and bowed low, retreating backwards and muttering apologies and thanks in equal amounts. Before the young man on the throne could ask if there was anything else to be discussed, another patron walked in, with no less than six guards behind him. He was holding was seemed to be a golden chain, but what it was attached to, could not be seen, not yet at least.

"Oh my Pharaoh, Great Shadow of the Gods…" Both brothers rolled their eyes as the listing of complimentary titles wend on. "We bring you an exotic apparition, a jewel from faraway lands, a rare desert flower." The Pharaoh arched an eyebrow at this. But when the man before him finished this pronouncement, there was another noise that came from the little cluster of guards behind him. It seemed that whatever they had for him, was nothing too tame, for it emitted a low throaty growl, not entirely unlike that of a lion. The two guards in the front parted, and revealed a woman. And what a woman! The Pharaoh straightened in his seat to get a better look at her. Never had anything like this creature been seen in his palace before. Her skin was not tanned like theirs, but of a paler tone, with warm pinkish color in her cheeks. Her long hair was not nearly so dark as every other female in Egypt, but the color of polished wood with streaks of dark gold running through it. And it was not straight, nor did it look so coarse as that of any other woman, but soft, and it hung in long languid waves. And her eyes…Surely no mortal woman had eyes like that! Her eyes were as sharp and green as fresh young leaves. Her clothing was odd to say the least. Since when would anyone want to stay so covered up in this kind of heat? But something else registered in his mind. For as entrancing as she certainly was, she was glaring, not at him, but at the man presenting her with the kind of venom that only a woman can possess. For the chain, the Pharaoh could now see, was attached to a jeweled collar around her neck, and her hands were bound by a set of golden manicals and chains as well. The presenter yanked on the chain and her head jerked a bit, but it was clear that she was resisting. After receiving a sharp punch from the butt-end of one of the guard's spears, she rose to her feet, which the brothers could now see were encased in some kind of odd footwear, as opposed to the sensibility of sandals. The man holding the chain yanked again and this time she strode up to him and stood facing him, glaring as though she might burn holes in him with her eyes. There was that same low, threatening growl and it was quite clear that she was the one who'd made it the first time. The man holding her gripped her chin in his fingers and turned her to face the Pharaoh. "Be more respectful to your master!" he had sounded quite worried at her lack of etiquette towards the highest authority in Egypt. She actually snapped her teeth at him and growled again, this time louder, though she did not manage to catch anything with her jaws, since he had removed his hand quickly enough. The man pulled her forward, or tried to, and bowed to the Pharaoh, extending the golden chain to him. "We give her to you, a slave, such as she is." The Pharaoh stared at the woman for a long moment, and she stared right back. Though it was really more of a glare, as she stood straight up, her head held high with defiance; not at all like any half-sensible slave would. Narrowing his eyes slightly, and with the slightest upward curve of his lips, the Pharaoh too the chain the man offered and gave a sharp tug. It wouldn't have put her in any real pain, but the action was meant to impress upon her just what kind of situation she was in, even if she didn't like it. She stumbled forward and nearly fell, but recovered herself and tilted her head to glare up at him again, her own eyes becoming dangerous slits of green in her own enraged face. His fingers gripped her face more gently than he guessed she had expected, because her right eyebrow arched making her look quite as confused as she was angry. The Pharaoh, for his own part, found her impossibly beautiful, the kind of thing a goddess might be in living human form. But his damn good sense told him she was no Goddess, not in the least. She was just an overly defiant female, though an odd one even in that rarity, and therefore all the more intriguing.

"You have a name?" the Pharaoh inquired, in that same, calm tone.

Amber was about ready to have a bitch-fit over this whole insane ordeal. Did these arrogant morons honestly think she'd stand for this? She wasn't a slave and wasn't about to accept the concept of being property, not to him, not to anyone. She jerked her face away from his hand and tried her best to kill him with an icy expression, that really being her only weapon.

"What do you care?" she hissed threateningly. "It's not like you'd think to use it." Her reward was another sharp yank of the chain, effectively choking her for a second or two.

"Mind your tongue." The Pharaoh warned gruffly and pulled her face close to his own this time. There was a pause in which they stared at each other, two sets of eyes with fury in equal measure. "Or you may not have one at all." He whispered, and his voice was so calm and placid that it sent a chill up Amber's spine, though she tried to hide it. Her only vocal reply was to let out an irate sigh, in indication of weary petulance, and in this case, momentary defeat. She was still clearly annoyed as the Pharaoh smirked at her, and his grin widened when she gave a sudden start as he pecked her lightly on the cheek. She drew back a step, but couldn't go back any farther because of his tight grip on the chain. A soft chuckle rose from somewhere in his chest, and seemed to ground whatever she was thinking, because her face turned icy again. The Pharaoh sighed and sat back in his throne. "Yugi," the younger boy next to the young man stood up. "Do me this good turn, and take her to my chambers." To Amber, it sounded like more of an order than a request for a favor. But the younger male only nodded and took the chain his brother offered him, smiling almost – was she imagining it? – Kindly up at her. She gave him a severe look for a few moments, but to the surprise of all present, she sighed and it was like a mask falling away, and what was revealed was sadness, even fright. Though what she was so scared of, none of those around her could say. The Pharaoh was not overly harsh to his slaves, but he could definitely be strict and would give punishments for disobedience if necessary. Pondering on this, Yugi led the young woman down several halls and at least half as many sets of low steps. More than once, he glanced back at her to see if she was alright, but she seemed to be lost in her own thoughts, and didn't notice his gaze. Apart from her looks, there was something else he noticed about her. Yugi had judged her to be maybe only a little younger than his brother, which he knew the Pharaoh must have guessed as well. It was a good change, in Yugi's opinion, from the other slave-girls the people sent his brother, which were usually around his own age of 14. Both siblings had found this exceptionally insulting, though culture dictated that there was nothing to be ashamed of. The Pharaoh found it to be hardly any different from sleeping with a child, and as such, didn't bother with those slaves, but rather let them get on with their work in peace. Yugi paused once they reached the massive double doors to his brother's chambers and a second later felt the woman walk right into him.

"Sorry." She muttered as she stepped back again, and he smiled gently at her.

"That's alright, no harm done." He said, and was surprised when she smiled slightly at back him. The guards standing on either side of the doors pushed the gigantic panels open and the little prince entered, guiding the slave behind him. There was a hook in the wall, right next to the bed, and this was where Yugi hung the last link on the chain, tethering the woman to the wall. He looked up at her then, his violet eyes holding a sense of guilt that Amber felt he really didn't deserve, not entirely anyway. "Um…I'm sorry, but this is just how it's supposed to be." He looked up at her again, since she was a good deal taller than he, maybe a few inches shy of his brother's height, and was yet again astonished. To him, the expression on her soft fair-skinned face was of confusion rather that frustration or anger. Feeling awkward, and a bit embarrassed, the little boy shrugged his shoulders and walked towards the door. Pausing for a moment, he looked back at her over his shoulder. "Don't be angry with the Pharaoh. He's really very nice to the slaves." He told her and turned to leave. But just as he was crossing the threshold…

"Are you his brother?" The soft question rooted the little prince to the ground for a moment, then his nerves recovered and he looked back at her.

"Yes." He replied, then after a second of quiet asked, "How did you know?"  
"The two of you look alike, that's all." She answered with an idle shrug, as if it had only been a curious question. They left it at that. Yugi passed through the doors and they closed with a solemn thud behind him. Walking slowly, and a bit rigidly, he made his way back to the main audience chamber, wondering why her one question had bothered him so much. Everyone in Egypt, or failing that everyone in town, knew he was the Pharaoh's little brother, that didn't seem to strike any particular cord. What felt odd was the fact that she had asked it, and also the feeling he had that there was a severe difference in culture. It was as if she came from an entirely different world that what would make any kind of sense. After all, even women of other cultures knew their place and could behave themselves without spitting fire. Also there was the other fact that she had been so indifferent towards him, and had been so manifestly sharp towards his brother. It felt wrong somehow.

Back in the Pharaoh's chambers, Amber was struggling with that stupid collar. The buckle to it was in the back, beneath her long hair, and she was nearly choking herself to try and get the thing undone. When it finally did come off, she coughed once and took a few good deep breaths. Next were the golden manacles on her wrists, and though they were accessibly positioned, they were no less difficult. She would have gotten them off with greater ease if she could have figured out how they where secured, but that seemed to have some kind of odd trick to it. Instead she turned and twisted her wrists until her hands were finally free, and the area of her wrists was sore and pinkish-red from irritation. With a sigh, she sat on the edge of the bed for a few minutes to recover herself a bit. Those damned bindings had really hurt to get off, but it was worth it to be able to move freely again. At length, she stretched and heaved a deep sigh; the bed was feeling rather comfortable just now. With a snap, she came back to reality and shook her head sharply. First and foremost, was getting the hell out of here, and that required something special, since half the household would know by now who she was, at least who she was to the Pharaoh. She was smart enough about society to know that gossip spread faster than the common cold. None of what had happened since she had woken up made any sense, especially since there were no Pharaohs anymore, everyone knew that, and more over kidnapping an American was as good as launching a runaway hubcap up you nose; which is to say causing nothing but trouble. Amber walked quickly and silently over to the open balcony to the far side of the room from the doors and looked out. Knowing full well that the hallway doors were guarded, she hadn't even bothered, but if there was a way out through the balcony, she might just have a chance at escape, and finding the American Embassy or something else just as helpful. There didn't seem to be anyone out there, nor in the open space below. The only serious flaw was that the distance from the balcony to the ground was way too far to jump without serious injury. Also there was no rope to lower down to a safe level. Glancing back into the room, she realized she might just have to attempt something perfectly absurd, like tying the bed-sheets together. It seemed nothing was on her side today, or at lest nothing that was useful.

In the main audience camber, in wonderfully cool shade and on a comfortable cushioned throne, sat one who was clearly the man in charge here. At present, his head rested against his fist, and he looked exceptionally bored, and probably annoyed as well. He could feel a vein throbbing in his left temple and wished that the idiot babbling in front of him would get to the point and stop wasting time. There was a slight tug on his free arm and he looked down at a little boy, who usually sat next to him, though not on the throne.

"Are you alright brother?" the boy asked quietly, concerned for his older sibling. The elder of the two smiled a little at him, and ruffled his spiky hair.

"I'm fine Yugi, don't worry." He replied in his deep calming voice. Yugi smiled up at him and sat back down, thinking that his brother was too stubborn for his own good in this kind of situation. He sighed at the thought of what it would be like if he were in his brother's place. Yugi was sure his brother was better suited to this, it would probably drive himself absolutely, and in all other ways, completely mad. Having had enough, the elder of the two held up one hand, palm out to stop the speaker's constant irritating drone. "Understand this," he said, and there was definitely warning in his tone. "I will marry when I am good and ready to do so, and I will not be rushed on the matter. Now there isn't any more point discussing it." The man, who had been speaking, looked crest-fallen and bowed low, retreating backwards and muttering apologies and thanks in equal amounts. Before the young man on the throne could ask if there was anything else to be discussed, another patron walked in, with no less than six guards behind him. He was holding was seemed to be a golden chain, but what it was attached to, could not be seen, not yet at least.

"Oh my Pharaoh, Great Shadow of the Gods…" Both brothers rolled their eyes as the listing of complimentary titles wend on. "We bring you an exotic apparition, a jewel from faraway lands, a rare desert flower." The Pharaoh arched an eyebrow at this. But when the man before him finished this pronouncement, there was another noise that came from the little cluster of guards behind him. It seemed that whatever they had for him, was nothing too tame, for it emitted a low throaty growl, not entirely unlike that of a lion. The two guards in the front parted, and revealed a woman. And what a woman! The Pharaoh straightened in his seat to get a better look at her. Never had anything like this creature been seen in his palace before. Her skin was not tanned like theirs, but of a paler tone, with warm pinkish color in her cheeks. Her long hair was not nearly so dark as every other female in Egypt, but the color of polished wood with streaks of dark gold running through it. And it was not straight, nor did it look so coarse as that of any other woman, but soft, and it hung in long languid waves. And her eyes…Surely no mortal woman had eyes like that! Her eyes were as sharp and green as fresh young leaves. Her clothing was odd to say the least. Since when would anyone want to stay so covered up in this kind of heat? But something else registered in his mind. For as entrancing as she certainly was, she was glaring, not at him, but at the man presenting her with the kind of venom that only a woman can possess. For the chain, the Pharaoh could now see, was attached to a jeweled collar around her neck, and her hands were bound by a set of golden manicals and chains as well. The presenter yanked on the chain and her head jerked a bit, but it was clear that she was resisting. After receiving a sharp punch from the butt-end of one of the guard's spears, she rose to her feet, which the brothers could now see were encased in some kind of odd footwear, as opposed to the sensibility of sandals. The man holding the chain yanked again and this time she strode up to him and stood facing him, glaring as though she might burn holes in him with her eyes. There was that same low, threatening growl and it was quite clear that she was the one who'd made it the first time. The man holding her gripped her chin in his fingers and turned her to face the Pharaoh. "Be more respectful to your master!" he had sounded quite worried at her lack of etiquette towards the highest authority in Egypt. She actually snapped her teeth at him and growled again, this time louder, though she did not manage to catch anything with her jaws, since he had removed his hand quickly enough. The man pulled her forward, or tried to, and bowed to the Pharaoh, extending the golden chain to him. "We give her to you, a slave, such as she is." The Pharaoh stared at the woman for a long moment, and she stared right back. Though it was really more of a glare, as she stood straight up, her head held high with defiance; not at all like any half-sensible slave would. Narrowing his eyes slightly, and with the slightest upward curve of his lips, the Pharaoh too the chain the man offered and gave a sharp tug. It wouldn't have put her in any real pain, but the action was meant to impress upon her just what kind of situation she was in, even if she didn't like it. She stumbled forward and nearly fell, but recovered herself and tilted her head to glare up at him again, her own eyes becoming dangerous slits of green in her own enraged face. His fingers gripped her face more gently than he guessed she had expected, because her right eyebrow arched making her look quite as confused as she was angry. The Pharaoh, for his own part, found her impossibly beautiful, the kind of thing a goddess might be in living human form. But his damn good sense told him she was no Goddess, not in the least. She was just an overly defiant female, though an odd one even in that rarity, and therefore all the more intriguing.

"You have a name?" the Pharaoh inquired, in that same, calm tone.

Amber was about ready to have a bitch-fit over this whole insane ordeal. Did these arrogant morons honestly think she'd stand for this? She wasn't a slave and wasn't about to accept the concept of being property, not to him, not to anyone. She jerked her face away from his hand and tried her best to kill him with an icy expression, that really being her only weapon.

"What do you care?" she hissed threateningly. "It's not like you'd think to use it." Her reward was another sharp yank of the chain, effectively choking her for a second or two.

"Mind your tongue." The Pharaoh warned gruffly and pulled her face close to his own this time. There was a pause in which they stared at each other, two sets of eyes with fury in equal measure. "Or you may not have one at all." He whispered, and his voice was so calm and placid that it sent a chill up Amber's spine, though she tried to hide it. Her only vocal reply was to let out an irate sigh, in indication of weary petulance, and in this case, momentary defeat. She was still clearly annoyed as the Pharaoh smirked at her, and his grin widened when she gave a sudden start as he pecked her lightly on the cheek. She drew back a step, but couldn't go back any farther because of his tight grip on the chain. A soft chuckle rose from somewhere in his chest, and seemed to ground whatever she was thinking, because her face turned icy again. The Pharaoh sighed and sat back in his throne. "Yugi," the younger boy next to the young man stood up. "Do me this good turn, and take her to my chambers." To Amber, it sounded like more of an order than a request for a favor. But the younger male only nodded and took the chain his brother offered him, smiling almost – was she imagining it? – Kindly up at her. She gave him a severe look for a few moments, but to the surprise of all present, she sighed and it was like a mask falling away, and what was revealed was sadness, even fright. Though what she was so scared of, none of those around her could say. The Pharaoh was not overly harsh to his slaves, but he could definitely be strict and would give punishments for disobedience if necessary. Pondering on this, Yugi led the young woman down several halls and at least half as many sets of low steps. More than once, he glanced back at her to see if she was alright, but she seemed to be lost in her own thoughts, and didn't notice his gaze. Apart from her looks, there was something else he noticed about her. Yugi had judged her to be maybe only a little younger than his brother, which he knew the Pharaoh must have guessed as well. It was a good change, in Yugi's opinion, from the other slave-girls the people sent his brother, which were usually around his own age of 14. Both siblings had found this exceptionally insulting, though culture dictated that there was nothing to be ashamed of. The Pharaoh found it to be hardly any different from sleeping with a child, and as such, didn't bother with those slaves, but rather let them get on with their work in peace. Yugi paused once they reached the massive double doors to his brother's chambers and a second later felt the woman walk right into him.

"Sorry." She muttered as she stepped back again, and he smiled gently at her.

"That's alright, no harm done." He said, and was surprised when she smiled slightly at back him. The guards standing on either side of the doors pushed the gigantic panels open and the little prince entered, guiding the slave behind him. There was a hook in the wall, right next to the bed, and this was where Yugi hung the last link on the chain, tethering the woman to the wall. He looked up at her then, his violet eyes holding a sense of guilt that Amber felt he really didn't deserve, not entirely anyway. "Um…I'm sorry, but this is just how it's supposed to be." He looked up at her again, since she was a good deal taller than he, maybe a few inches shy of his brother's height, and was yet again astonished. To him, the expression on her soft fair-skinned face was of confusion rather that frustration or anger. Feeling awkward, and a bit embarrassed, the little boy shrugged his shoulders and walked towards the door. Pausing for a moment, he looked back at her over his shoulder. "Don't be angry with the Pharaoh. He's really very nice to the slaves." He told her and turned to leave. But just as he was crossing the threshold…

"Are you his brother?" The soft question rooted the little prince to the ground for a moment, then his nerves recovered and he looked back at her.

"Yes." He replied, then after a second of quiet asked, "How did you know?"  
"The two of you look alike, that's all." She answered with an idle shrug, as if it had only been a curious question. They left it at that. Yugi passed through the doors and they closed with a solemn thud behind him. Walking slowly, and a bit rigidly, he made his way back to the main audience chamber, wondering why her one question had bothered him so much. Everyone in Egypt, or failing that everyone in town, knew he was the Pharaoh's little brother, that didn't seem to strike any particular cord. What felt odd was the fact that she had asked it, and also the feeling he had that there was a severe difference in culture. It was as if she came from an entirely different world that what would make any kind of sense. After all, even women of other cultures knew their place and could behave themselves without spitting fire. Also there was the other fact that she had been so indifferent towards him, and had been so manifestly sharp towards his brother. It felt wrong somehow.

Back in the Pharaoh's chambers, Amber was struggling with that stupid collar. The buckle to it was in the back, beneath her long hair, and she was nearly choking herself to try and get the thing undone. When it finally did come off, she coughed once and took a few good deep breaths. Next were the golden manacles on her wrists, and though they were accessibly positioned, they were no less difficult. She would have gotten them off with greater ease if she could have figured out how they where secured, but that seemed to have some kind of odd trick to it. Instead she turned and twisted her wrists until her hands were finally free, and the area of her wrists was sore and pinkish-red from irritation. With a sigh, she sat on the edge of the bed for a few minutes to recover herself a bit. Those damned bindings had really hurt to get off, but it was worth it to be able to move freely again. At length, she stretched and heaved a deep sigh; the bed was feeling rather comfortable just now. With a snap, she came back to reality and shook her head sharply. First and foremost, was getting the hell out of here, and that required something special, since half the household would know by now who she was, at least who she was to the Pharaoh. She was smart enough about society to know that gossip spread faster than the common cold. None of what had happened since she had woken up made any sense, especially since there were no Pharaohs anymore, everyone knew that, and more over kidnapping an American was as good as launching a runaway hubcap up you nose; which is to say causing nothing but trouble. Amber walked quickly and silently over to the open balcony to the far side of the room from the doors and looked out. Knowing full well that the hallway doors were guarded, she hadn't even bothered, but if there was a way out through the balcony, she might just have a chance at escape, and finding the American Embassy or something else just as helpful. There didn't seem to be anyone out there, nor in the open space below. The only serious flaw was that the distance from the balcony to the ground was way too far to jump without serious injury. Also there was no rope to lower down to a safe level. Glancing back into the room, she realized she might just have to attempt something perfectly absurd, like tying the bed-sheets together. It seemed nothing was on her side today, or at lest nothing that was useful.

Okay, thanks to the one person who reviewed this on I seriously appreciate it. Is anyone eaven reading this part anymore?


	3. Dinner and Debate

Just for the record: I will forever appreciate the opinions and views, which is to say reviews, that I am given and will remove none since I've a firm belief in freedom of speech, regardless of whether or not I agree with someones elses opinion. So for the love of (Deity of choice here) PLEASE REVIEW ALREADY! And my Thands go out to the one person on this sisite who did review; Joy shall be yours! That's all I have to say

Chapter 3

Some hours later, the Pharaoh walked down the halls to his chambers. There was a steady throbbing ache behind his left temple, and he felt inclined to lie down for a bit in hopes of calming it before the side of his face exploded, it would be nice to relax for a bit. Also he recalled the woman he had received as a gift in the early afternoon, and was curious about her. The looks she had given him where, he thought, the oddest reactions he could have received from a slave. It was not really common knowledge that he was generally good to them, more often people preferred to make him out as a cruel tyrant that removed heads as easily as nodding. He certainly had the ability to be, if he were so inclined. But really, what was the point? That would most likely mean having to cope with hysteria on top of everything else, and anyway, slaves that liked you were more likely to be obedient and loyal. After the guards had opened the doors for him, he waved on hand in a gesture of dismissal. They bowed as the closed the doors, and the Pharaoh relaxed a bit when he heard the sound of their heavy feet fading down the hallway. His own amethyst gaze fell to the bed, and the empty jeweled collar beside it. Anger rose, and so did the pounding in his head. An agitated growl passed his lips and he strode swiftly to the bed and practically ripped the hangings aside. The bed was empty, but he could see something through the hangings on the other side. The outline of a person was backlit by the setting sun and fudged a bit by the lack of focus the hangings offered. Quietly this time, he walked around the bed and stared out the far side of the room and to the balcony. There, with the sunlight on her face and in her hair, was the new slave-woman. She was just standing there by the railing, her elbows leaning on it, and her chin in her slender hands, just staring out at nothing. The ruler of Egypt snapped himself out of his trance and stepped closer to her. She only glanced at him when he was about five or six feet away, then let her eyes focus on the landscape in the distance again. This utter lack or respect annoyed the Pharaoh, and to show this he came close to her and gripped her firmly by the wrist. She winced a little, then her face hardened, and she gave a sharp jerk, trying to free herself from his grasp. It made no difference, he still held onto her as tightly as ever, and two sets of eyes were locked in a death glare. She blinked first, sighed and looked away. The Pharaoh smirked a bit and came closer, but as he did so she backed up, not a reaction he had expected. There seemed no limit to the surprises this woman had. So he tried a different tactic, and pulled her suddenly close. He was amused to note that she went as rigid as a stone statue. But there was no reaction other than that.

"Say something." He quietly ordered, and she leaned a little back from him. The look she gave said, quite plainly _You told me to watch my mouth_. "You may speak freely." He sighed in mild exasperation.

"That's a matter of opinion." She remarked and made another attempt at easing out of his arms. The Pharaoh held her tighter still, clamping her between his arms and his body. It was easy to tell that this was making her uncomfortable. "Will you let up already?" she added with fresh irritation.

"Does it bother you, being close to your master?" The Pharaoh asked, his voice soft and velvety, his breath warm against her right ear. The very slightest of shivers ran through her body, and being as physically close as they were, he felt it all too well.

"Gee, what was your first clue?" she said sarcastically, another indication of her fury, at least at this point. The painful pulsing behind his left temple began again and the Pharaoh eased away from her. She stared at him as he sank down on the edge of the bed, pressing two fingers to his forehead. "Headache?" she asked, a tad gentler now.

"Migraine." He muttered and winced. For her own part, Amber wasn't sure what she should do. On the one hand, this man couldn't possibly think of her as really anything other than property, and therefore any discomfort he was in was only fair. On the other hand, she knew just how terrible a migraine could be, having had a few in her lifetime too. With a heavy sigh, and thinking that she would probably regret this, she climbed onto the bed next to and slightly behind him. He looked back at her, and there was some level of suspicion in his face. With her hands of either side of his face, the slave-woman turned him to face forward again and he felt her thumbs begin to rub carefully at the base of his skull. Relief (warm, sweeping, glorious relief) washed over his brain, chasing the pain away, throb for throb. His deep eyes slid shut and he leaned back into her warm, soft, graceful hands. _Where in the name of Ra did she learn this?_ He wondered as the pain continued to seep away. The Pharaoh could feel himself going slack now that he was not so on edge, and he swore he could feel her breathing right behind him.

"Feel better?"" she asked softly. The Pharaoh didn't reply in words, but reached back and pulled her arms around his shoulders, so that she was more or less hugging him. "I'll take that as a 'yes.'" She said dryly. It was getting annoying to have him practically all over her every other minute. "Do you mind?" she said, trying to pull back.

"As a matter of fact, I do." He replied and held on even tighter. He felt her exasperated rush of breath on the side of his face and neck, and smiled with satisfaction. Fixing both of her hands securely in his left, the Pharaoh reached back with his right hand and gently stroked her cheek. He could feel her jaw clenched beneath the skin and he sighed, she really needed to lighten up. Reaching a little farther, he embedded his fingers in her long, silky soft hair and forced her a little closer, so her chin rested on his shoulder now. "Tell me your name." He nearly whispered. And almost instantly, she went stiff again.

"Why should I bother?" she muttered, sounding more depressed than angry. At this, the hand in her hair became a fist, gripping the long locks none too gently.

"Because you will find the dangers of not doing so are far greater." He told her warningly. There was a long moment of silence and finally, his fist loosened back into a hand and stoked softly at her hair again.

"Amber." She mumbled, and he looked at her, so that they were nearly eye-to-eye. "So, what's your name?" she asked, idly, feeling like she might as well know.

"Why should I tell you that?" he said, smirking at her. He could play this game just as well as she could.

"Because I gave you mine and I really didn't want to." She snapped back.

"It's not as though you'll be calling me by it." He remarked with maddening superiority.

"Well what am I supposed to call you? Master, or something like it?" her voice was laced with sarcasm again and he rolled his eyes.

"What else did you expect?" his tone was sarcastic now, and somehow that had not surprised Amber much. "Did you think life as a slave would be fill with days of lounging about?"

"Hey!" her voice was suddenly as sharp as the snap of a whip. "In case you forgot, I wasn't given any choice in the matter!" He had obviously touched a nerved, it was clear in her loss of composure. "What kind of idiot would actually want to be a slave?" she added as an after-thought. A heavy silence settled on them again, and who could be surprised.

"Yami." Amber wasn't quite sure she heard right, his voice was so quiet.

"Yami?" she repeated inquisitively. His response was to glance over his shoulder and give a single nod. For a long time, it seemed, they just sat there almost staring at each other. It felt strange, like they had reached some small understanding. Feeling awkward, Amber tried to ease away from the Pharaoh, and again, his hand on her wrists tightened and drew her close. "Will you kindly knock it off?" She asked in her dry, ruffled tone of voice. Yami's deep chuckle only served to annoy her further.

"You know, I don't really feel inclined to." He said in that same deliberately superior tone. Moving slowly, he turned to face her, being careful to keep a good hold on her arms so she didn't try anything perfectly mad. He sat there completely facing her now, her hands still in one of his, and his free hand still messing about with her hair.

"Stop that." She muttered irritably, tossing her head so that her hair flicked itself out of his fingers. The Pharaoh inadvertently applied more pressure to her wrists, and looked surprised when she hissed in pain. "Watch the wrists." She bit out, and his hold on her loosened, though not by much. The number of staring contests seemed to have no end to them in sight, as was the case now too. Penetrating amethyst met sharp green. Neither could look away. It was silly, childish, and they were stuck.

Finally, and with a gruff voice, Yami asked, "Why didn't you say something earlier?" Amber knew he was referring to her sore wrists, and only stared at him hard for a moment longer. Then she averted her eyes looking away, he was making her uncomfortable.

"Would it have made a difference?" Yami was getting the feeling that she rarely let her defenses down, and even though she was less than happy, now was no exception. There was a moment of unstressed calm between them, then…

"You're very stoic." He said softly, releasing her hands altogether, and stroking her hair softly again. Yami was almost startled when she actually smiled at that.

"I'm not really." She said, and looked a bit embarrassed. "I just bite my tongue." When she looked at him again, she had to hold in the insane urge to laugh, because he looked a little ill. "I don't mean that literally." She said, still trying hard to keep her amusement in check. He sighed, and then looked at her with a smirk again.

"And just what is so funny?" He knew damn well what she was trying not to laugh at, but he just wanted to see what she would do when confronted about it. Amber's cheeks bloomed scarlet, and she diverted her gaze to the ceiling, a smirk playing on her own lips now. Yami's eyes were, for some reason, drawn to start at that mouth.

"Can't tell you that." She said loftily.

"Why not?" He said, edging closer to her, and his grin widened when she let her gaze fall to him again. She blushed even harder if that was possible.

"Um, it's a state secret?" she sounded like she was suggesting the idea. Her smiled seemed more forced now, but the Pharaoh didn't back off.

"You're not being straight with me." He breathed softly in her ear. His hands were running slowly up and down her arms, so he felt it instantly when she tensed again.

"You're right, I'm not." She said flatly, and turned her back to him.

_ There's that wall again_ he couldn't help thinking. But he wasn't about to just leave it at that. Settling right behind her, he very carefully slipped his arms around her waist and held her tightly against his body, her back to his chest. She could not have been more rigid than if she were made of stone. Yami sighed as he rested his chin on her shoulder. "Does my touch bother you so much?" he breathed in her ear again, but there was no hint of a smirk this time, not even on his face or in his tone.

"Knock it off." She said tartly, turning her head away from his face as far as she could. His hand came up and turned her face back to his. But Amber never got the chance to retaliate, because his lips were instantly on hers, warm and soft, and such an utter surprise. Whatever she had been expecting, that was not it. The Pharaoh wasn't the least bit surprised that his new slave was still imitating a statue. Doubtless, she had not seen that coming, and it was more likely she had expected a sharp reprimand instead. Yami was no amateur at this sort of game. Although he had no wife yet, as she viziers were constantly reminding him, he had been given some slave women as gifts, and they had each been seduced easily by him. He did not love them, and had told each one so from the start, but they went willingly to bet with him anyway. If the fact that he otherwise treated them the same as the rest of the slaves and servants bothered any of them, they were wise enough, or maybe just scared enough to keep silent; or failing that, they just didn't care and were in it for the physical fun. But right now, as his lips worked hers, gently at first, a roman saying came back to him.

_ Even snow will melt on a warm day, but not her._ Amber was being stubborn and hardly responding, though that might still be due to shock. His other hand, still on her waist, was drawing soothing circles along her ribs, and he could feel her starting to relax a bit. Taking the next step, Yami gently parted his own lips and passed his tongue smoothly across her lips. But the second he'd done it, he knew it had been a mistake, for he felt her gasp and go stiff again, trying to lean away from him. He heaved another deep annoyed sigh, and very reluctantly pulled his mouth from hers. But his hands stayed solid where they were on her abdomen and face, not allowing her to move.

"Let go of me." She breathed harshly and, he was surprised to note, almost desperately. A long pause in which the only sound of their deep breathing followed for a moment, at least until they had each caught their breath sufficiently. The Pharaoh's lips just briefly touched her cheek then he backed off, and Amber took a few good, sobering, breaths away from his scent. There was a tentative knock at the door, and casting her another of his wolfish smiles, Yami got up and walked over to the massive wooden panels, that served to bar them from the outside hallway. When he answered it, one of the servant girls, who was probably Yugi's age or even a bit younger, bowed, holding up a rather large tray of food and drink, more than enough for the rooms two occupants.

"Thank you, but I didn't send for this." Yami said, accepting the tray and smiling at the girl. She looked both terrified and enamored, because her eyes were so wide and her face blushing as red as a tomato.

"Master Yugi asked me to send this up to your room My Pharaoh." She said tremulously, and bowed low again. Yami nodded to her that she could leave and the girl did so, scampering away much faster than he would have guessed her capable. He chuckled a bit as he kicked the door closed and set the tray on a long table set op next to another wall. Turning to Amber, he beckoned with a finger, but instead of getting off the bed and coming over to him, she just sat there with her feet tucked under her and her arms folded. Everything about her spoke of defiance.

"Don't tell me you have no need of food." He said pointedly, still smirking. But he was pacified when she got off the bed and walked over to him. Yami gently pushed her into a chair, and picked out a piece of fruit with a fork, then held it out in front of her lips.

"Trying to feed me?" she said archly. "Or do you suspect someone's trying to poison you?" It was becoming abundantly clear just how much of a talent for sarcasm she really had.

"Quite the comedian, aren't you?" Amber heard the equally sarcastic not in his words, and wasn't sure she completely sure she liked, nor that the minded it either. She took the fork from his finger and fed herself the fruit on it before handing it back to him and looking either amused or irate, it was hard to tell since she was smiling. Yami took a piece of food for himself, then speared another and repeated his actions of a few moments ago.

"Okay I've figured it out." Amber said as though she'd just solved the world's greatest mystery. It was all he could do not to laugh at the ridiculously theatrical tone she used.

"What?" He asked, expecting a joke, and sure enough…

"You're trying to annoy me to death." She concluded aloud. To their mutual surprise, they both laughed at that.

"That's not funny." He said once they had both calmed down. But all it took was another look at each other for them to burst out laughing again.

"Yes it is!" Amber said in between gasps for air.

"So," he began again when they calmed a bit more. "You're challenging my word by disagreeing?" the line was delivered daringly, and he wondered how she would take it. But Amber merely chuckled again.

"No, I don't need to." Her tone was now more matter-of-fact and even thoughtful. "I just think that it's funny since you and I were both laughing at it."

"And what if I disagree?" Said the Pharaoh, leaning back in his chair a bit. "What if I say that I laughed unwillingly?" For a second or two, she just stared incredulously at him. Then folded her arms and shook her head, the long brown and gold mane waving, and smiled back at him.

"I'm not even going to touch that idea." She said, still looking a bit smug.

"And why is that?" the Pharaoh asked. He found that he was beginning to like this kind of game she played.

"Because that particular philosophy is way-the-hell beyond me." She said succinctly. Yami arched an eyebrow and she gave him a similar look.

"A slave who answers with wit, what is the world coming to?" the question was clearly rhetorical, but if he was annoyed, it wasn't dancing-naked-in-front-of-you obvious. They ate a little more, and the Pharaoh continued to ask Amber question of this that and the other. Normally, he didn't do this with slaves, but she was becoming a special case. He even went so far as to touch on the subject of her family, but that proved a fruitless effort. "Why not tell me about your family?" he asked, almost concerned that she would just clam up all of a sudden.

"A few reasons." She answered in a cryptic, distant manner. Her eyes would not meet his, and seemed hypnotized by the smooth stone of the table.

Yami reached over and took her chin gently in his fingertips, tilting so that she looked up at him again. "Such as?" he asked, and his tone of voice meant to be obeyed. To him, her expression was somewhere between sadness and fury, and could not decide which it was supposed to be.

"My family is my business, and that is not something I will discuss with anyone." Her tone was as cold and biting as the frigid winds in high mountains. "And certainly not with someone I hardly know." Yami could tell that last acidic remark was meant specifically for him. Amber turned her head roughly from his fingers, stood, and strode past the bed to the balcony. She rested her elbows on the railing and let her fingers rake through her hair savagely. Although Yami wondered why she didn't want to even graze the subject, he though he had some idea. He thought it very likely that something had happened to her family, and that wound would never heal, at least not completely. It made sense therefore that she would not open up and give him such a potential weapon, since she trusted him as much as a peacock trusts a jackal. He walked over to her, and could see her frame shaking slightly, though nothing more than a few shuddering breaths reached his ears. He reached out and ever so gently placed his hand between her shoulder blades, feeling the muscles tense. Wrapping his other arm loosely around her waist, he closed the space between them, letting his face burry itself in her long hair, the scent of some foreign flora washing over his nose, and making him feel drugged. The hand that had been on her back was now snaking around and across the front of her shoulders. She still shook with the force of keeping what where surely painful sobs from bursting forth.

"Don't cry." He heard himself whisper into her hair. "Please don't." It felt as though it had been so long since he'd needed to ask something of someone rather than command it, and the Pharaoh felt a twinge inside him that strung like a whole hive of hornets all in the same place. Amber took several deep breaths and managed to control herself, before trying to look at him. It isn't easy to look over your own shoulder at someone when they're holding you so tightly like that.

"Please let go." Said the Pharaoh's new slave, and he cocked his head slightly to one side to look at her, one eyebrow arched. "I'm fine, just…" She heaved a sigh. "Would you let go?" Yami felt irritated at her for her need to be so distant, then at himself for acting as if he needed her so desperately. His arms pulled away, leaving only his hands on her hips now.

"You still sound distressed." Yami told her, brushing a few locks of rich brownish-gold hair away from her ear.

"Distressed?" she gave a laugh that held no humor. "I'm way past distressed." The way she spoke made him wonder if she was going mad.

"Why is that?" He asked quietly, and his tone did not quite sound like its usual commanding self. Amber turned to look at him then, and though her eyes were just the slightest bit red around the rims, she still had that look between sorrow and anger.

"How would you feel if you'd lost your freedom and everything you've ever known all on one day?" The tone was not so harsh as he had expected, even so it made the necessary point. It was getting dark by now and the stars began to prick the sky with their pinpoints of light, and the bright moon hung low in the Egyptian sky, still somewhat early in the night. And for a time they just stood there, until Yami felt a chill breeze against his own warmer, slightly tanned skin. Easing back from Amber, he locked her hand with his and proceeded in the direction of his room again. But he met with resistance, her hand did not grip his back and she did not follow him back to the in-doors. Looking back at her over his shoulder, his eyebrows arched as they beheld her staring up at something. In the next moment, he was next to her again and following her gaze upwards.

"What on earth are you staring at?" he asked, when he could find nothing remarkable. For a second her eyes shifted to his face then back up at the sky.

"The stars." She said calmly, though wonder was evident in her voice.

"Why? What's so special about them?" He wondered aloud. After all, it wasn't as though they were exactly hard to miss on any clear night, and that was quite normal here.

But to his surprise, Amber sighed. "Where I'm from you hardly ever get to see them." The Pharaoh stared at her in blatant astonishment. "At least not this many." She amended her previous statements.

The Pharaoh's wit recovered rather quickly. "By any chance, do you live in a cave?" He smirked when her responding look was irate.

"So tell me," she said leaning casually against the stone railing. "Is royalty always so catty, or is that just you?" Yami sighed; he could see that would never be content to let any of his taunting fly.

_ This could be quite amusing_. Smirking again, he tugged on her hand and managed to indicate that they needed to go inside. He gestured to the bed, but it was clear from a glance that she didn't understand whet his body language meant. "Lie down." He ordered, though gently, and had to literally bite his tongue to keep from laughing at her reaction. At the moment, Amber reminded him of a cat that has just been startled senseless and stands there rigidly with its fur on end.

"I beg your pardon?" She said sounding deeply disturbed at his request.

"Lie down." Yami repeated, clearly and firmly in his normal tone of command. Amber replied by wrenching her hand out of his and folding her arms over her chest, her cheeks aflame and her expression highly affronted. _She's sort of cute when she's angry._ The Pharaoh thought but did not say. He merely sighed with a tired smile on his handsome features. "You really are an odd woman you know." He commented as he took her upper arm in his and guided her to the bed anyway.

"Oh really?" She said flatly, clearly not giving a damn.

"Most of the slave I'm given cower and grovel and practically beg to go to bed with me." He sat her down on the edge and looked at her. "What makes you so different?" He finally asked what he had wanted to know ever since she'd first opened her mouth to speak so daringly.

"Probably the fact that I was brought up to be independent." She said in that same flat, irritated tone. She reached and unzipped her boots, pulling each one off to set then standing next to the bed. "And I'm not sleeping with you because I have some sense of propriety." She was skating on thin ice now and she knew it by the look on his face, but went on anyway. "I'm not about to sleep with anyone I barely know. Pharaoh or not, you are no exception."

"Are all the women of your land like this?" he asked, walking around the bed and beginning to undress.

"All the smart ones." Amber remarked, with her back to him. She had no need to see him bare-ass naked, especially when he looked tempting enough already.

"I pity the men." She heard him chuckle as the bed-sheets rustled a bit.

"You shouldn't, they judge mostly by looks anyway." She replied, still with her back to him.

"Such a bad thing?" His hot breath whispered in her ear, making her shiver.

"Yes a bad thing." Amber replied through gritted teeth, trying to keep her cool. Yami's fingers turned her face to meet his again, and she could have fallen over from the shock of his lips on hers.

"Is it all that bad for you?" He whispered huskily against her cheek.

"Yes it is." She stated in as icy a tone as could be managed.

"Why's that?" He asked, his fingers tracing lower than was altogether decent. Amber stopped his hand with one of her own and turned her face from his touch.

"Because I don't like people assuming that because I'm pretty that I'm also dumb as a box of rocks." She said bitterly. The sudden change in body language made him pause and ease back from her a bit.

"That might not be as bad as you'd like to think." The Pharaoh told her. His voice was edgy from not getting what he would have dearly enjoyed, not this evening at least. Just as he tucked himself under the covers she glanced at him

"How so?" she asked, much calmer now.

"If an opponent thinks you're stupid, they won't work so hard against you to get what they want, and you have the element of surprise on your side." He explained, then smiled at her stunned look. "Are you coming to bed or not?" She mumbled something about complying and edged cautiously under the blankets. "Do you always sleep in all your clothes like this?" Yami asked as his strong arms wound around her waist.

"Only if I have to sleep next to a guy I don't trust." She replied saucily. And she shivered again when he chuckled in her ear.

"Quit complaining, or I'll bed you for real." It was only a joke-threat, but it still achieved the desired effect.

"Goodnight." She said shortly and slowly fell asleep with her back to him.

Author's notes: At the moment I have only a vague idea as to where I want thsi to go, so any suggestions would be much appreciated. Thanks for reading, NOW REVIEW!


	4. More Than SkinDeep

Thanks: My undying thanks go out to Fish and chips and also to Your Dream Come True. You people are my greatest source of inspiration in my writing, so thanks. Anyways, to all those who read this and don't review, you all SUCK! Hopefuly now you have the nerve to post what you think on the review thingy, it's not that difficult. Hope you all like this next chapter See ya later!

Chapter 4

The early-morning sunlight crept in and tried to pry its way between Amber's closed eyes. But just now, she would have none of it. She was far too comfortable, nestled as she was in that warm soft cocoon. That dream she had last night had definitely bee one of the weirdest, most random dreams she had ever had. And stranger still was the fact that she could remember so much of it with such clarity.

_It was just a dream._ She reminded herself. _When I wake up I'll be home in bed and ready to kick some corporate butt._ A yawp stretched its way past her mouth and in its wake, sent an extra supply of oxygen through her system. _When I'm damn good and ready._ She reminded herself that sleep was simply one of those things one needed, and God help anyone who decided that she didn't need it. Presently there was the familiar sensation of weight shifting on the bed and soft rumbly sound. Then a damp sandpaper tongue on her cheek followed by a fuzzy face nuzzling against her own smooth skin. _And there's Pippin, right on time._ Amber though almost annoyed, but not really. The fur-ball that wouldn't quit was now stepping on her stomach, knowing that would get her up, just as he was ready to curl up there. "Alright, Alright, I'm up." She grumbled as she shifted and tried to sit up. But something heavier than just red cat was holding her down. It felt like a heavy strap around her upper waist, or maybe someone's arm. At this thought, Amber's green eyes popped open and she looked around. There was Pippin sure enough, on her stomach as usual, but she was not in her bedroom, or for that matter in her condo. The walls were the same stony color and texture they had been in her dream, except now there was daylight upon them. But more preoccupying was the fact that she was still fully clothed and in what she'd thought was just a dream, because it was the Pharaoh's bed. And speak of the devil; there he was, lying next to her, one arm slung haphazardly over her torso. Very carefully, so as not to wake him if this was real, Amber tried to lift his arm from her waist. She froze again as he shifted and held on tighter, though his eyes stayed closed. With a pained groan, she fell back against the pillows and brought one hand to her forehead. This was just fucking brilliant! A little feline paw batted her face softly to get her attention. Amber removed her hand from her face to look forlornly at her pet. Pippin seemed to not really care though; he was even rubbing his face against Yami's exposed hand. And even though it was early, seeing this gave Amber a rather sadistic idea of how to wake the Pharaoh this glorious day. _Lord knows he deserves it._ She thought, grinning like the Cheshire cat. Moving ever so gently so as not to wake her captor, she picked Pippin up and set him down on the Pharaoh's sleeping form.

Yami had really been awake since he first felt his new slave begin to stir. But like her, he'd kept his eyes shut, still feeling contented with the warmth that being this close to her body offered. This day like all other days in Egypt would be overly hot of course, but it was still early yet, and he was feeling far to relaxed to just make himself get up and go. When she tried to pry his arm away from its resting place on her body, he had a hard time keeping up with the pretense of sleep. His lips curved into a smirk as he merely tightened his grip a little and lay still again. It was amusing as hell, at lest to him, that he was able to practically feel her exasperation. She was just so easy to annoy and the result was funny most of the time, if not all the time. Teasing her was like teasing a cat; he'd have to watch himself though, or else he might be scratched by those long fingernails of hers. As this though occurred to him, Yami felt a set of four paws and their accompanying weight on his stomach. It then padded up his chest and something rough and wet, like warm, damp sand licked his nose before rubbing something furry against the same place. With a feeling that might have been the emotional equivalent of a heart attack, Yami's eyes shot open only to see a pair of big yellow cat-eyes in a furry red face no more than two inches away from his own. If he had been less shocked he might've hit the ceiling; as it was, he couldn't even move for a few minutes.

_A red cat?_ Nobody had seen anything of the like in the whole of his kingdom before. The feline reached out a paw towards his face and Yami leaned back to avoid the contact. _Who knows what the little beast was capable of? _And he didn't want to have to find out the hard way. Was this a sign? A prophecy? Had Bastet sent this creature as a warning? More than just these questions chased each other around the inside of Yami's head until he might've been thoroughly dizzy, if not for the seriousness of the situation. The little creature walked even further up his chest and seated itself just below his collarbone, making breathing rather difficult. Nothing else happened, it just sat there nonchalantly, staring down hard at him. _What does this mean?_ Just as this through was about to burst from his lips, he was startled nearly out of his skin for the second time that morning.

"Pippin" Said Amber's voice, as though she were a mother scolding her child for rude behavior. The red cat on Yami's chest stood up on all fours, arched its back, and stepped off him to return to the female. Yami stared in disbelief at what he was seeing. The feline had actually approached her, purring and nuzzling its head against her open palm. Amber met the Pharaoh's gaze and gave a devious, satisfied smirk. "Good morning."

"To some maybe." He growled in reply, only making her grin spread even further. The cat that she called Pippin was now curled up in her folded legs, and looking as though he would have quite liked to go to sleep there.

"He's got the kitty-grin." Amber chuckled, and then had to hold one hand over her mouth to keep from laughing too hard as the Pharaoh merely cocked an eyebrow, still looking irate. "You know how cats will sometimes look like they're smiling? Well, when I was a kid I used to call that the kitty-grin, and I just never grew out of it."

_She really WILL be the death of me._ Yami thought as she sat there stroking the feline; and he sat there wondering at the bizarre image in front of him. He had never known of, let alone seen, any cat that behaved like this towards a human. But the cat Pippin and his slave clearly had broken that rule of behavior, and he once again wondered what this meant. Bastet was generally a peaceful goddess and was renowned as a guardian of the home and of pregnant woman. But to the best of his knowledge, Amber was not pregnant, she couldn't have been. Only virgins were ever given to the Pharaoh because anything used would have been an insult. He supposed that maybe it fit if he looked at this from the aspect of Bastet sending a message that she would guard his home, which this woman was now a part of. But there was another side to the gentle cat-goddess, a vengeful side. _Which suits her well enough._ He thought scathingly, remembering how he'd been woken this morning. In a way it seemed that the pair of them were, together, a form of Bastet incarnate. On the one hand Pippin seemed friendly, if unnerving, and on the other, Amber definitely had a talent for being spiteful. At least that was true by his standards. Shaking his head, the Pharaoh stretched and stood up from the bed.

"Christ man will you make yourself decent!" Amber screeched, and when Yami looked around, he saw one of her hands over her eyes. There was also a wry smile on her face, but it told him she was highly embarrassed, though he couldn't think why. True he had slept in the nude; that was all too normal for him. What had she expected? Had she really thought he would bother with the uncomfortable clothes even while he slept? What would have been the point of that?

"You are quite possibly the oddest woman I've ever known." He replied and didn't care if she heard him.

"And not in the biblical sense either." She remarked dryly. "That's probably a record of some sort." The Pharaoh merely rolled his eyes, not giving a damn what she meant by that. It was clear to him that half her little remarks would make no sense to him whatsoever. So, naturally, why bother caring? Glancing back at his newest slave, Yami was still amazed to see the feline curled up in her lap and purring as loudly as a contented lion.

"Is that normal cat behavior?" He found himself wondering aloud.

"In Pippin's case, yes." Amber replied and the Pharaoh flicked his sunset-purple eyes in her direction for a second before letting them rest on the animal again. For some reason, he had the perfectly insane urge to reach out and touch the red fur ball. He couldn't have explained the need, even to himself. Maybe it was because Amber could do this without the least worry, and she was just a slave, stubborn and independent though she undoubtedly was. For her own part, Amber wondered why Pippin was scaring the Pharaoh this much; After all, he was just a little red cat, it wasn't as though he'd sprout fangs or spit poison at any given moment. "You can pet him." She said tiredly, correctly interpreting the look he was giving the cat. "It's not like he'll rip your hand off or anything." She was surprised at the stern look he gave her then. It was almost like he was trying to say, "You don't know that for sure." But he reached one hand out and, as lightly as possible, trailed his fingers over Pippin's fur. Yami marveled at how it felt; the texture was quite as soft as Amber's own hair, maybe softer, but it was hard to tell. But he was startled when the little feline body arched and rolled itself onto its back. Pippin's eyes were almost completely closed, reduced to thin contented slits of vibrant gold. Amber rubbed her hand along the animal's chest, and he arched against her touch, stretching his paws towards the ceiling. To Yami, it was incredible how much she knew of this animal and how comfortable she was with him; it was almost like seeing Bastet herself cradling one of her living symbols right in front of him.

"Where did you find such a creature?" He asked dazedly as his fingers rubbed very gently behind the cat's ears.

"I went to a place called the Humane Society, and adopted him."

"So does that make him your brother or your son?" Yami asked, and it would have sounded sarcastic if he hadn't been looking genuinely curious.

"He's my friend, and my pet." Amber answered patiently, more so than she really felt the need for. "Besides, they'd have killed him if someone hadn't taken him home in two weeks." She added looking a bit sick at the thought.

There was a long, unpleasant pause, in which Yami stared from her to the cat and back again. "They wouldn't dare." He muttered quietly.

But Amber scoffed, "Oh yes they would. The excuses being that, it's more humane than letting the animal live out its life in that place." She shook her head. "But how that's fair in the least if way the hell beyond me."

"If nobody took him in two weeks, they would just let him die?" Yami asked, wondering what kind of civilization it was where a creature always needs a home with a human.

"No they'd have actually made the effort to kill him." Amber answered as if there was a disgusting taste in her mouth. At this, the red furry mass rolled in his owner's lap to where he was now on his stomach and stared up at the Pharaoh with hard yellow eyes. It was sort of odd how the little critter could change its mood so fast.

_But that's normal for cats isn't it?_ Yami reasoned as said eyes kept staring at him.

Needless to say, Amber was restless, and doing her best to both mind her mouth and not glare people to death; and also keep herself from plotting the Pharaoh's demise, even if it was sorely tempting. After breakfast and a change of clothes, which she hated every stitch of, she had been made to sit beside the Pharaoh's throne, on the floor in accordance with their customs. Yugi sat on a stool to his brother's right, while the new slave was on the left. For her own part, Amber felt that this amounted to a minor insult at best. She was above giving a damn as to what role they thought she should have in the grand scheme of things, and she figured she could tough it out for a while. Even though she deeply disliked her current situation, the only way she would get out of here would be to play it cool until she knew the best way to run for it and not be caught. No, there were really only two things that bothered her. One was the fact that she was attracting so much attention, and not just from her so-called master. Everyone from the high priests to visiting dignitaries from foreign nations seemed to never miss an excuse to stare at her; which nearly always resulted in a compliment towards the Pharaoh regarding his beautiful slave. More than likely they would not have looked twice at her if she had been more covered up. As it was, Amber had been made to wear a scanty little top that was more like a halter top to her, because it tied behind the neck and at the mid-back region, leaving very little to the imagination. The edges of it had been trimmed, or more likely carefully dyed with a rich crimson color and along the bottom edges, thin decorative gold coins hung and clinked whenever she moved. And the skirt, if one could call it that, was just as bad. It was a flimsy affair made of a narrow gold rope that wound its way around her hips a few times, with a long strip of white fabric, also trimmed with red along the edges with gold coins along the bottom too; and the covering was no wider than a foot in the front and the back alike; the part of it that was actually cloth fell to about the middle of her calves and Amber therefore tired to stay in a pose which allowed the audience to see as little as possible. This however was a difficult task considering her state of dress, or undress rather. Another irritation was something Yami had quickly fallen into the habit of doing. When someone's eyes would linger too long on his new slave, or if a particularly suggestive compliment was offered, he would thread his left hand through her long hair, which he'd purposely insisted she keep down and loose, and guided her head to rest against his left knee; thus making it look as though she would not willingly have anything to do with those in front of her and only wished to stay with her current master. True Amber had less than no interest in the gushing morons before her, but that was beside the point. On the other hand, it might've been a good thing that Yami did this, since it seemed that for now, she would have to rely on him for protection from every other male around this place. She didn't like it, but his gestures helped emphasize that she was off limits, a good thing in the long run. Though however long the long run was, she didn't want to wait forever to find out. The necessity for patience sucked to high heaven.

In spite of all of this however, there was something odd that seemed to increase in frequency during the day. Every so often Pippin, who had taken refuge in her lap, would spring forth and arch his back with all his hair on end, his tail all bushy, and hiss and make threatening swipes at a few of the men that came to speak with the Pharaoh. From Amber's own perspective, this was damned odd behavior for the normally calm and friendly red cat. But for Yami and Yugi, it meant something entirely different from just strange behavior. With no more than a glance at one another, the two brothers agreed on one thing. Bastet was surely watching over them all now, and had sent the feline, and possibly the girl to act as a pair of guardians. In their minds, the cat Pippin was the one who sent a warning to the household that those it indicated were up to no good, and also to the potential wrongdoers that this place was protected by the gods. But what could that mean for the cat's owner? Was she unknowingly or otherwise an avatar for Bastet's own powers? A vessel through which the gods would watch over the Pharaoh and the young prince? Both had admitted to themselves, and would likely do so later, that the gods worked in mysterious ways. They dabbled in cause and effect just enough to keep the flow of this world and all who inhabited it to their liking; was it not possible that they had plucked a woman out of one place and set her down here to look after them?

Such a matter, Yami decided, would require much prayer and divination in the next week or so, if he were to learn the answer. But there was time enough for that later. He glanced down at Amber, who was still looking ruffled by the last remarks of a middle-aged Greek, who was eyeing her with hunger, none too discreetly. Again Yami's hand reached out and coiled in the long soft locks of brownish-gold. But this time she rested her head against his knee before he'd even applied the pressure to indicate her to do so. And more over, he could feel her arms wrap around his left calf, as though she were a scared child clinging to the nearest adult creature for defense.

"My dear Thruselus," Yami said interrupting some forgettable remarks. "Please keep your mind, and your physical self, on your work, and not on my little pet here." He finished this with several deliberate strokes of her long hair as though she were some feline beast. He could feel Amber shifting her arms so that she clung tighter, and wondered what she was doing exactly.

"Oh my sincerest apologies Pharaoh." Said Thruselus, with a humbled bow. "But, you know, I am like any other man. Beauty leaves an impression on me." He was staring at Amber again, and it didn't take a genius to figure out where exactly his eyes were roaming.

"Well certainly, I can understand that." Yami said, but then his voice turned cuttingly harsh. "But keep in mind, your are looking at what you cannot have." Normally, Amber would argue with him, if only on principal, but for once, she felt he was right, even if the reasoning behind such sentiments was skewed.

"Once again, my apologies, Oh Great Pharaoh." The Greek bowed again, and Yami relaxed a bit, though Amber didn't move from her current position against his leg. The rest of the time Thruselus talked, Pippin stood like a sentinel three feet in front of Amber. Once when the man took a few steps closer the red mass of fur brought itself to its full height, which wasn't much considering, and arched its back, giving an angry cat-growl. The Greek was acutely aware of the animal's animosity towards him, but being somewhat ill informed of what this meant to the Egyptians, was wondering why several sets of eyes were glaring at him. "Shoo! You mangy beast!" He spat at the little creature and made a sweeping gesture with his hand as if to wave the cat off.

"Thruselus." The Pharaoh's sense of patience was sounding strained to say the least. "A word of advice: It is best to like everyone and everything in a foreign country until you leave." His meaning by this was clear to all; behave yourself and deal with your issues until you are in a safe enough place to complain about them. Thruselus said nothing, but bowed again and backed away, throwing Pippin an evil glare. In return the cat arched its back and hissed before going back to its owner's lap, curling up and glaring at the Greek with unblinking golden eyes. That image in and of itself would not have been so frightening, if the slave-woman had not been giving him the exact same stare. Her impossible green eyes fixed on him startling enough to make him wonder what she might do. Thank the gods she was merely a slave, and could therefore do nothing to him.

But all in an instant, something changed. Amber's eyes glanced to the right, past the Pharaoh and the prince, and she straightened her posture a bit more to look. Then in a second, her eyes were wide and she launched herself past Yami to where Yugi sat. The little boy looked startled to be sure, but in the next eighth of a second, he looked absolutely petrified. There was the sharp ring of metal on stone, and a harsh cross between a growl and a scream from Amber, and blood dripped to the floor, amid the shouts of orders and the clatter of soldiers feet as they chased after the attacker. Yugi blinked several times and stared at the open wound. Amber would not ease away from him, though the long cut in her arm must surely sting like hornets and fire. Her blood continued to drip into a small puddle on the ground next to them, and even so, she was making no effort to stop the flow. The little prince put his hand to her arm where it bled, and felt sick from the sound of her hissing in pain, and the feeling of the slick yet sticky red substance on his hand.

"You alright kid?" she grunted, through her clenched white teeth. Yugi couldn't bring himself to speak, shocked as he was. And there was Yami next to him, holding him as if he had been the one to take the blow rather than Amber.

"Brother? Are you hurt?" Though his voice was rough, both Amber and Yugi could tell he was quite as scared as they were.

Yugi shook his head after a few moments. "No." He said quietly. "I'm alright. I'm not hurt."

Yet again Amber felt her sense of irritation and indignation at the situation growing to dangerous levels. Laying on her right side was easy enough, just not when a needle and thread was repeatedly penetrating her skin in an already sensitive place. Even though she had been offered morphine, and she'd dearly wanted to accept it, she knew better. It was dangerous enough stuff in her own day and age, she wasn't about to risk it in this place. The Pharaoh had insisted, even against all cries for decency, to watch over the process, and because he was there, Yugi had wanted to come along too. Amber didn't much care about this, though she would later find it rather touching that they both wanted to keep an eye on her.

"Did you see anything at all?" Yami asked again, hoping this time the results would be different. But alas, no such luck.

"Just some white hair and I think some robes or something that might've been white at one point or another." Amber gritted out through her still tightened jaw. "Not enough to really go on." Yami sighed and looked petulant. There was silence again, broken only by the occasional hiss of pain from the Pharaoh's slave. Yugi seemed to be in a very subdued frame of mind, but that was understandable, given what had just happened. His own through pattern was rather chaotic at the moment

_Amber saw them. They were trying to get me. But they got her. Will she die? Please Gods don't let her die for this! What if they try again? What if my broth can't do anything? What-?_ A strong arm came around his shoulders and startled hem out of his thoughts so hard that he actually jumped.

"Yugi are you alright?" His older brother's tone was much gentler now, and Yugi felt all the better for it.

"I'm fine." He said softly, still feeling very nervy and on edge. But what he was feeling must've shown in his face, because Yami put a hand to the little boy's forehead, apparently feeling for a temperature.

"Does he look pale to you?" the Pharaoh asked, glancing at Amber to indicate it was her opinion he wanted. She had to arch her neck at an uncomfortable angle in order to see properly.

"Come here a minute sweetie." She said warmly to the little boy, who promptly stood on shaky legs and walked over to her. He almost winced as he felt her right hand touch his forehead, then his cheek. "Yeah, he's all clammy." She said softly. "Shock can do that to a person, and it usually does." She finished on a pained growl in the back of her throat as she sat up so the doctor could apply bandages.

"Are…" Yugi hesitated, and looked down at his sandal-clad feet. Amber stared at him for a moment, wondering what he was trying to say, the looked up at Yami as if asking if his little brother was indeed alright. "Are you going to die?" It was a quiet question hat made all in the room stop and stare at him.

Before Yami could ask what brought this on, the physician and his slave spoke at the same time. Then they both paused and traded confused looks.

"You first." Amber said politely, and the doctor bowed in mild thanks, not polite, but not rude either.

"Be assured your Highness, the young lady is as likely to live as any of her age." He said , and though his tone was calm and matter-of-fact, it seemed to Amber and Yami both, that he was deliberately making it sound grandfatherly to boot. Neither of them objected nor pointed this out, since it seemed to make Yugi feel a bit better; at least he looked up again.

"There you go." Amber said, smiling and editorializing like she was prone to do. "An experienced professional opinion." Yugi smiled at that, knowing she had a point there. The doctor wouldn't have said such a thing if it weren't true. "Besides, she added, looking at the now linen-wrapped arm. "I've survived stuff like this before, I can do it again." Yugi's smile turned watery as he lunged and threw his arms as best he could around Amber's waist.

"I'm sorry." He said, his voice sick with guilt. "It's all my fault!" At this, Yami was about to say something, but as he opened his mouth, Amber shook her head hard, telling him to keep quiet for a moment.

"No." She said so solidly and sternly, that Yugi looked up at her, his lip quivering. "You didn't do anything to cause this, so it can't be your fault at all."

"B-but-."

"Yugi, you did not put that blade to her flesh." Yami finally got a word in, and Amber smiled at him. "The one responsible is the assassin and whoever he is working for."

"You see?" Amber told the little boy, who still looked like he didn't believe them entirely. "You're brother doesn't blame you, and neither do I. You shouldn't blame yourself." It was a few minutes before he finally cracked a smile again and hugged her.

"Send for the guards and tell them to send for double the number." Yami directed this command at the doctor who had been looking as though he really wanted to escape this awkward atmosphere. The man bowed and hurried off to do so. The Pharaoh then turned back to his brother and pulled the boy into a hug. "I want you to go straight to bed and try to get some sleep alright?" Yugi nodded, but looked doubtful, and nobody could blame him. There came a loud knock on the door and Yami bid the guards to enter. They did so, looking as straight-backed and proud as if they had been manufactured toy soldiers. "Escort the prince to his chambers, and when you get there, search the place and make sure there is no intruder." He set one hand on Yugi's shoulder for a moment. "Guard him well, or it will be all your hides." He warned and each of them nodded, knowing he was completely serious. They left with the little prince shielded between them, and thus, the Pharaoh and his slave were all alone again.

Amber sighed, but said nothing, and Yami took a moment to take in the full sight of her. The once beautiful, if suggestive clothes, were now stained with the dirty, rusty color of her own dried and caked-on blood. There were placed where it clung to her hair too, and it made him want to find the matted spots and clean the substance out.

"Tell me the truth." Amber's head snapped up to look at him when he spoke suddenly. "Do you really think you'll live?" For a moment she only stared at him, but it wasn't quite the same stare that she had given his little brother.

"What're you implying?" Her eyes narrowed with suspicion.

"Answer the question." He said flatly, though it was not really from hate or anger. He simply would not be disobeyed, that was all, and he wanted his answer. For another minute or so, her eyes continued to not quite glare at him, trying to figure out what he was really saying.

"If no one makes an effort to do me any harm, then yes; I think I'll survive." She said pointedly. Yami made a quiet sound in his throat, but did not actually say anything for a few minutes. His mind was working and seemed to have hit a rather large snag.

"Why did you help my brother?" he finally asked, but his voice was barely above a whisper. Amber wasn't entirely sure she'd heard him right.

"Why did I what?"

"Why did you help my brother?" He repeated, his voice gruff again. "It' isn't exactly a secret that your situation angers you. In your eyes, I'm the one keeping you here. So why would you protect someone I hold so dear?" His voice was now harsh, he meant to be obeyed, and he meant to know why she had taken such a risk. And although he met her eyes and would not look away, the glare she was now giving him could have gone right through him and three walled behind.

"Just because I hate your guts doesn't mean your brother should die!" she spat in utter fury. "He's just a kid! And more importantly he's an individual apart from you! He's not responsible for anything you do, and only a sick son-of-a-bitch would attack him to get to you!" And with that, she stalked off with more energy and fury than most would have guessed her capable in her weakened state.

For a long time Yami just sat there. Too much seemed to have happened in too short a period of time. Dealing with a rebellious slave, who loved her own independence and the very next day his brother is nearly killed. But the same slave that so hates him risks her life to save the only family he has left. As he walked the halls to his bedchambers, the Pharaoh wondered what kind of world and culture had she grown up in where the murder of innocents was so strongly abhorred. Granted it was deplorable here too, but there were exceptions to such social and legal rules. Being born to such a high privilege as they were, was one of them.

_And yet that seems to make no difference to her._ He mused as he at last sat down on the edge of his own bed, and prepared for a nap, which he dearly needed.

For future reference, if anyone ever has any ideas or suggestions for how they think I could improve this or for something they want to see happen, let me know through the reviews. You never know, I might find some great inspiration there.

ALSO PLEASE NOTE THAT ANY REVIEWS BASHING THE OPINIONS OF OTHER REVIEWERS WILL BE SUBJECT TO EXTREM RIDICULE! You have been warned.


	5. A Matter of Time

Many thanks to those who are brave enought to read this and actually review it. For now I won't name names, you know who you are. But hey, if you guys want be to, I will recognize you all in my next chapter, just say something when you review Okay? As always, all reviews are welcome. And all Flames run the risk of being subjected to the ridicule of me and my anime/gamer/writing buddies. Therefore: FLAME AT YOUR OWN RISK> Enjoy the chapter

Chapter 5

A month passed, and Amber was as willful and sharp-tongued as ever. She could have dealt with the fact that she was stuck in this royal hellhole, cut off from everything she knew, and enslaved to boot. But dammit, dealing with monthly issues without the modernity of the twenty-first century purely sucked. She was too stubborn to complain about cramps, but the blood was another issue. There was that fact, and also the situation with the bathing arrangements. More than once she had ranted that she could take care of cleaning herself, but no one seemed to want to let her, which was supremely annoying.

"For God sake, I'm not a baby!" she snapped at the servants, who by all logic had more power than she did. "I can take care of myself!"

"But Lady," They insisted on calling her Lady, probably because the Pharaoh had kept her so close, for so long. "You are still injured from-."

"I'm not so helpless that I can't take a bath on my own thanks." Amber ground out, trying not to tense up the muscles in her left arm, since the stitches were still there.

"But Lady, please," Began another of the servant women. "The Pharaoh has ordered us to help you, and-."

"Look," Amber tried though gritted teeth. "I'll talk to him about this, but 'til then, just let be alright?" Several of the women exchanged surprised and befuddled expressions, while a few others merely looked insulted. Slowly, reluctantly, they filed out of the bathing chamber, perhaps fearing reprimand.

"You'll call if you need anything right?" Asked one of the more skittish servants. Amber couldn't help but give a weak smile.

"I'll be fine, but if I need anything I'll let you know. Thanks." She added as the woman closed the wooden door and Amber was at last alone. She heaved a heavy sigh, exasperated and tired from the past few weeks. It wasn't enough that her luck had been weird enough to throw her out here, but just in time to deal with the same problem nearly all women had to deal with every month. Sinking into the bath wearing absolutely nothing felt truly wonderful, especially since nobody else was hanging around to annoy her to death by insisting on scrubbing her back. She settled herself to a seat on the smooth, slightly warm, stone bench carved into the tub, or pool, or whatever it was. The water was a calming temperature, not hot, but definitely not cold either. But she still had to rest her left arm up on the edge of the sunk-in bath. The doctor had given strict instructions against wetting the wound at all, if it could be avoided. Amber didn't like this, but understood the necessity for it, so she didn't complain. Besides, she figured it was for her continued good health, so she really had no right or reason to complain.

Another sigh passed out of her lungs as her eyes settled on the darker marking against her otherwise unmarred skin. The fact that it was now an imperfection didn't bother her. There had been scars on her before, and she'd survived all of them, one more wouldn't kill her.

_But it could have._ The morbid thought seemed to surface out of nowhere, like a floating body in a cheap horror movie. For what may well have been the millionth time since the incident, Amber went over the fragmented memories of the attempted murder again. She still couldn't remember when she was on her feet, or even deciding to get up and do something. In fact it seemed that prior to the searing pain and rush of hot fluids in her arm, nothing else existed in reference to these events. But just shortly after, she could remember looking up past her bloodied arm and locking onto a pair of eyes as cold as black ice, very long white hair, a youthful-looking face. But any further details were lost to the confusion that had then ensued. The aftermath seemed fuzzy as well, except for the image of the Pharaoh and the little prince. Those two stood out as clean-cut in her mind as the wound did on her arm. Amber let out a breath she was not aware she'd been holding, and rested her head against the edge of the bath, her long hair drifting in the water around her. It would have been nice to have a friend here. Oh she counted Yugi as a friend of sorts, but this directly involved him. It had been an attempt on his life, and Amber couldn't bring herself to make him relive the whole damn thing when it wasn't necessary. And of course talking with Yami was way the hell out of the question, since it was his brother, and she didn't entirely trust him anyway.

If she was being honest with herself, Amber knew what she really wanted, and it wasn't just a friend. Homesickness had settled on her like the thick heaviness of a cloudy, humid night. And she decided she would go home, soon. It would take some planning, but it could be managed, if she kept her eyes open and was careful in her actions; she could not afford to make a single mistake in this operation…

The Pharaoh sat restlessly on his throne, wishing he could call it a day, and go to his chambers, to her. Then his thoughts followed the general pattern they'd been going in all day, and he wondered why he felt the need to see her. He had concluded that it was not something strictly physical, it was more than that. Though how he knew this was way beyond his own understanding. Trying not to yawn as a merchant argued with a farmer about who owed what to whom, Yami glanced over to his younger sibling. Yugi seemed about as enthusiastic with the proceedings as his brother did. His eyelids kept drooping shut, and slowly opening up again. And his hands moved absently over the purring mass of red fur which lay curled up in his lap. Pippin the cat had not left Yugi alone since the incident, and trotted beside him wherever he walked. It was difficult to say if this was really good or bad at all. On the one hand, it might have been a sign that he still needed protection, that there might be another attempt. Then again, who would dare attack someone protected by the Gods?

_A fool's blade may be sharper than his brain._ The Pharaoh reminded himself. He let his fist come up to support his right temple, with the promise of a headache forming there. He remembered the last one he'd had like this. That day when Amber was given to him, and how she'd seemed to pull the pounding ache from his mind with those gentle hands… Yami heaved a sigh. _Why think of that now?_ He wondered, without really caring. For some reason, thinking about her seemed to help him feel better. Maybe it was her calm demeanor, her stoicism, that inner strength she seemed to wrap around every aspect of her being; and, yet again, the question of where she came from and who she really was rose up in his head. Somehow, even though she was no more than a slave here, the question of her life elsewhere seemed to matter.

No amount of divination or prayer to the Gods had yielded anything helpful in this strange situation either. They hand granted him no visions that answered his questions; only vague images of themselves together in some way or other ever surfaced, leaving him puzzled and more curious than before. But if he were being honest with himself, it was more than just the fact that she was so strange, so totally alien to him, that made him think about her so much.

Warmth touched his cheeks as the memory of her lips against his flooded his consciousness. It wasn't the fact that he'd kissed her. He'd kissed plenty of women in his time, not to mention the fact that he'd done more than that. No, it was really the simple fact that he'd kissed her on the lips. Normally, Yami made a point of avoiding this whenever possible, choosing instead to tease other sensitive areas. _So why did I do that to her?_ His mind practically screamed at him for an answer he just didn't have. In a place somewhere deeper than his mind, that kind of kiss was more intimate, more feeling and meaningful. He heaved another sigh and stood up to leave. Maybe he had just reacted to her that was all. But if that was the case, then why was he now finding himself walking to the one place he knew he would find her?

Amber lay stretched out on the bed, laying on her right side, somewhere between asleep and awake. The state of mind she was in was something she had taught herself to do while on long airplane trips. She was awake, which was to say conscious, but her eyes were closed and her breathing long and even like soft wind in tall grass.

Not that the Pharaoh knew she was awake, since she still had the appearance of sleep. He merely sat on the edge of the bed observing her. Eyes so deeply purple as to look otherworldly drank in the sight of his entrancing slave; the gentle swell and fall of her chest, the way her long still-damp hair curled and trickled down her back, the way her limbs would shift slightly every now and then, the dark stitches that so contrasted with her alabaster skin, those soft pale pink lips slightly parted. It seemed that every so often those tempting lips would move as if to form words. But no sound reached his ears, even when he dared to lean as close as possible without waking her. It had not escaped Yami that this kind of moment, with Amber above anyone else, was exceptionally rare; he would not risk spoiling this moment by waking her up and doubtless having to deal with a sharp attitude.

But those lips of hers were so soft looking. A flush of color bloomed in his face at the direction of he own thoughts, which were none too chaste at the moment. At length, he allowed himself to be tempted. Leaning over her carefully so as not to inflict any harm on her injury, he arched his neck a bit and touched his lips to hers. At first the contact was so light, so brief that he might have kissed a warm breeze for all he could feel. He wanted more, wanted to feel the firmness of her mouth against his, her softer frame melding with his own body, her arms twined tightly around him, her soft hair teasing his face.

In some rational part of his mind, Yami knew he was taking a big risk, at least as far as getting close to this woman was concerned. If she woke up now, he'd most likely find himself on the receiving end of her considerable rage. But although his kisses grew firmer, bolder, Amber still did not stir. She remained on her side, breathing calmly, as regular as the currents of the Nile. Finally yielding to his damn good sense, the Pharaoh briefly touched his lips to Amber's cheek, then leaned back up into a sitting position. But there was something he noticed just then, and leaned in again to make sure. But it was no trick of the eye or the light; warm color had come up into her cheeks. It was as though on some level her body knew what he was doing, and expressing appreciation and gratitude. Yami smiled openly, knowing she couldn't see his expression with her eyes closed. It was sort of funny, and maybe enticing, how she could look so beautiful in the disarray of sleep. His deep gaze drifted back down to her arm, and the tiny stitching in her soft skin. Just the image, and the surreal feel of it made him want to punch a hole in the wall. It also made him want to keep her always close to him, despite the fact that she didn't seem to like him much, if at all.

Every time he paused to think deeply on her like this, Yami found that the answer to each of his questions only provoked more mental inquiries. She was an enigma for the ages that at least was for certain. And he heaved a sigh as he rested his hand on her shoulder, as if the gesture itself could guard her from the very jaws of death. Maybe it was just the fact that she had taken a big risk to help his brother, maybe not, but Yami could definitely feel himself becoming more attached to her by the more he thought of her. He noted this with some measure of worry, as day by day, Amber seemed to become quieter, colder, and somehow devoid of feeling. She wasn't constantly angry, nor happy, sad or any one of a thousand other emotions. She was withdrawing into herself, like a plant that decays slowly, dying from the inside first. And in spite of the many walls and bands of steel he'd placed around his heart to guard against such a feeling, the Pharaoh couldn't help but worry for her. Amber was something special, by more than just the standards of slaves, or the nobility for that matter. Yami leaned down again and took in a deep breath, inhaling her scent of her hair. The perfume of some foreign flora had almost completely faded, but not quite; and there was the smell of rich soap, clean water, and a hint of wood-smoke, a good healthy smell. It seemed clear that she was medically well, but he knew from his own past that that did not mean she was mentally, or emotionally well. And if things went on as they were going now, the harm would start to show physically. There was a distinct possibility that it might even kill her.

Yami nearly bit his tongue at the painful twinge in his chest, his whole body suddenly stiff and pent up. Presently Amber stirred a little, and he watched as her eyes blinked open, watched the haze of sleep fade from her eyes as the focused on him now. He'd almost smiled when one dark eyebrow rose o her face. That expression on a still sleepy face was just so damned adorable.

"Do I even wanna ask?" She said, her voice somewhat scratchy from sleep.

Yami only smiled and softly cupped her face earning her full attention; since he did this vary rarely. "You probably wouldn't care." He remarked, resting his chin in his other hand.

For a moment Amber just stared at him as if he'd said something odd. Then she heaved a sigh and rolled those pretty green eyes. "You're weird." She said in a tired sort of way, which left him wondering what on earth had become of that fiery spirit of hers.

Some hours later, when the rest of the place was asleep, save for the nighttime guards, Amber carefully eased out of bed. She had to move slowly so as not to disturb the Pharaoh and risk being caught. Stepping with as much muted sound as a cat's paw, she padded out of the bedchamber and into the bathing area. From there she could slip out onto an opened terrace, or something of the kind, where she knew there were no guards. Such nocturnal strolls for the past few weeks had taught her where the shadows covered her, and where the guards did not patrol. She wanted out, and now she would get out. She slipped quietly and quickly as she could down some steps and out to an open yard. Amber would have liked to bring Pippin with her, but she could not risk him making noise and being caught. Besides, he was rooming with Yugi and didn't seem to have any inclination to leave the boy's side. After what seemed like the whole night to Amber, she was finally out in the open air of the market, and with only a moment's hesitation in which she threw one last glance at the palace, she took off like a bat out of Hell. She didn't know the precise location she wanted, but the general theory had firmly embedded itself in her mind. If she got here by that one location in the desert by the Nile, it was only logical that she could get back the same way wasn't it? She hoped to God that this would work and kept running, choosing to ignore her screaming muscles.

By the time she reached the area she thought she was looking for, the sun had started to rise and dazzle off the sand and river water. Amber was out of breath and about ready to collapse from running for so long. Her lungs seemed to be on fire and her legs were wobbly from overuse. Even so, the thought of being caught and most probably dragged back to the place by her hair kept her going. At least it made her keep going until her left foot caught on something and stuck fast to the ground. When she looked down, she was already ankle-deep in the sand, and no amount of pulling or yanking would loosen the earth's grip on her.

_Quicksand!_ She thought wildly, as it continued to swallow her up. Amber could do nothing, there was nothing to grab onto and no way to stop any of this, so in the end, she held her breath and screwed up her eyes as tightly closed as she could. Everything seemed to be rushing past her in hurry, wind and sand and more besides. Then with a thud, a scrape, and a cry of pain, she felt herself connect none to softly with concrete pavement.


	6. Time Apart

Chapter 6

Three months had passed, and though Amber was just the same outside, besides a new scar on her arm, she was different in though. The study of Egypt had been fascinating before, but now it bordered on obsession for her. And more importantly, she had apparently come in contact with the Pharaoh that history so conveniently forgot. It was irritating in the extreme, and even more so since she knew she was not insane enough to dream up something like that. Also, as if to stand as a permanent reminder, there was the scar on her left arm. Once she had found herself back where she belonged, the first thing she did was to go to her condo and dress herself decently before heading to her physician. That had been by far, the strangest instance in which she'd ever had to see the woman. Heaven only know what Dr. Tuchinda must've thought about finding her client with stitches in her arm, no record of going to a hospital for it and worried that she' have some infection or something. To Amber's absolute relief, not to mention astonishment, There was no infection, and in fact Dr. Tuchinda had remarked that it was a very good job for what it was. Even so, she'd prescribed some mild antibiotics, just to be on the safe side.

Between the medical worries, the question of her job, and dealing with that one annoying business association over in Japan, Amber had been glad when the aftermath was finally done running its course. And for a time, she felt better, as if a bout of illness had passed at last. So now here she was, sitting in the local library, lost amid the stack on Egypt and it's histories, mythologies, and more besides. The hours she kept either there or else researching on the Internet had been long, and in spite of herself, she now gained a slow addiction of coffee. She chalked this up to strain and having her general perspective warped beyond reason from her experience in, wherever she had been for that month.

As things currently stood, she no longer had a job, not that she needed it really. Her financial situation being as it was, she didn't really need to work to pay the bills. But one needed something to do to get through the days. When her idiot boss had finally succeeded in getting her to come to the office for a little chat, Amber had had to endure all the verbal abuse he could spew at her. As if that had not been enough, as if she had not borne it all with icy manners, he had made the sorry mistake of yet another indecent proposal. With all that she had been put through in the past month, this had been the last straw, and Amber's patience had finally shattered. She smiled remembering the satisfying CRACK of her fist against his jaw, and the resounding slam of his office door as she stormed out, angry enough to make the cubical workers shrink a bit in their seats, as if to avoid being either frozen or burned to death by her mere presence.

And now as Amber paused to select another heavy volume from the shelf, she wondered if she might just take up a job here, in this shrine of knowledge and literature. At first it was just a passing though and just as easily dismissed, then it crossed her again, and she hesitated for a moment. Maybe the idea wasn't such a mad one after all. For one thing she could do her research with greater ease, and perhaps know more of what she was looking for. She'd be able to keep an eye on new information via the magazines and periodicals thee library subscribed to; and more over, she'd have something to do during the day. Plus a library was so strictly quiet that it afforded some peace for an overly loud mind. She made a mental not to ask for an application before she left for the day. As her green eyes glanced at her watch a sigh passed through her, like a breathe of wind through an old building long bereft of occupants. It was getting late…

As she walked home, Amber wondered at the strange melancholy feeling that hung around her like a kind of iron cloud with a promise of rain that would not come. It was making her sick, though not entirely in the physical way, and who knows? It may have just been the effect of coffee and the medication, though both were mild. Maybe it was the fact that all this shit had cropped up in her absence, but she didn't think that was the problem by itself.

_Nope, that'd be too fucking easy._ She though, and inner monologue sounded drugged from her own perspective. Another manifestation of how she was feeling perhaps. It was hard not to let her mind drift back to what was really bothering her. The question of how Yugi was doing made her wonder how and why she'd become so maternal. And then there was Yami, to whom she really owed nothing. And yet she wondered how he was coping with all of this and the fact that he had not been the one who'd saved his own brother. Amber would've bet that it seriously warped his own perspective that a slave and a woman had managed what he could not. A bitter smiled passed her lips as she turned the key in the lock and entered her home again. _Strange to feel guilty as sin when I haven't done anything._ She mused as she leaned against the door.

And she missed Pippin too. Annoying as he was, she missed him.

"This is going to drive me nuts." She concluded aloud as she sat at the kitchen table with her forehead resting against it. Then she groaned. _First sign of madness: Talking to yourself. Second sign is when you get an answer._ That had almost made her laugh. But she seriously feared that she was cracking up.

Hours later, Amber lay in her bed constantly shifting between asleep and awake. If there had been anyone to see her in her present state, they might've laughed at the way she had the blanket and sheets so completely wrapped around her. She looked like a fly encased in a spider's threats, or else like someone whose sleeping bag has shrunk around them and can no longer slip out of it. To a common observer it would appear that her dreams were turbulent, but in all reality they weren't, at least not at first.

_The room was fairly dark, with a hint of firelight glancing off the stonewalls. She could see it even through the sheer curtains that hung around the bed. Not that she was really noticing it; her mind was on other matters at the moment, specifically, the man on top of her. His hot breathe warming her skin to the point of flushing, his kisses nearly burning her. She'd swear each one was a tiny brand into her flesh. But neither of these two details were what made her sweat. Amber, for it was she, could feel her hair sticking to the back of her neck and a few places on her face. All her muscles were tensed, especially in her legs, particularly in the upper thigh; and it was no surprise since this man, this near-god was between them, moving, moaning, and even growling a bit. His hands, his big hands, were clutching hers, their fingers laced together. She was gripping him too, returning the feeling. Her chest heaved for breath, pressing against his own bared flesh. Amber's left hand somehow got free of his and wove the slender fingers into the spiky tir-colored hair that always seemed to defy the laws of gravity. He groaned again, and his unoccupied hand slipped to just above her left hip. _

"_Yami…" She moaned softly as his teeth teased the pulse-point on her neck again, probably leaving a mark. _

Be-Be-Be-Be-BEEP!

Amber bolted upright in bed, and then, because of how the bedclothes had tied around her as she slept, she fell over and out of bed.

Be-Be-Be-Be-BEEP!

A groan of the utmost irritation sounded from the young woman, who still lay on the floor in disarray. And she bitterly cursed whoever was whacked out enough to try calling at – she checked the clock- six-fifteen in the morning. Moving carefully, so as not to fall over again, she waddled to the phone and snatched up the receiver.

"Collect-call from Japan. Do you accept the charges?" asked a cool female voice, the kind that is stereotypical of customer service.

"It's quarter past six in the morning." Amber grumbled, because she was still not fully awake.

"Thank you." Said the voice on the other end.

"What? Wait, I didn't…" But amber gave up when a click sounded through the earpiece.

"Hello?" Said a different voice, a man this time.

"This better be good, I'm in a bad mood." Amber warned in that same calm, grumpy manner, as she pressed two fingers to her temple, then moved them to the back of her head and tried to force the aches away.

"Well, how nice for you." Remarked the man on the other end, clearly sarcastic. That voice, Amber thought, was rather like a cat, the way it was sharp, irritating, self-centered, and probably anything and everything just as bad. She made a face as he went on. "Miss Caldwell my time is too valuable to waste on false sympathy so-."

"So why don't you get to the point?" She growled, sharply cutting him off, and not caring that she was being rude. Bloody hell, he'd practically asked for it.

The man on the other end of the phone Hmphed and went on talking. And Amber found she liked him less and less with every sentence. "Since you are the largest stockholder in the company in question, and since I'm particularly interested, I'd like you to name your price."

There was a pause then… "Excuse me?" Amber said, not quite understanding; it was too damn early for understanding.

"How much will you sell your stock for; all of it." He asked ask plainly as possible, and it sounded to Amber as though it had cost him some energy or composure to do so, since his voice was more like an irritated gravel.

"You had to ask me this as six-fifteen in the morning?" she groaned, avoiding answering his question. It wasn't like he really deserved an answer anyway, the way he was acting. Manners meant something after all.

"As I said, my time is valuable." He stated cool and cocky as anything.

"Frankly sir, you're not encouraging me. And who the hell are you anyway?" She was starting to wake up now since it was clear that she was not going to get back to sleep anytime soon.

"My name is Seto Kaiba, CEO of Kaiba Corp." He added with an air of importance, as though she'd really care about whatever status he'd given himself.

"And you got my home number, how?" She asked, picking up a pen and sitting down at the table with the tips of the pen just touching the paper beneath it, leaving a tiny black blot.

"A mutual friend gave it to me. But I want to know what you will sell your shares for." Amber had the image in her mind of some puffed up brat sitting with his feet kicked up to rest on his desk, and leaning back in a chair while examining his fingernails. The appearance of an office and a nice view behind him completed the mental illustration of what she was sure this guy was like.

"Not likely." Amber said flatly. "My friends don't know my number." She could hear a slow intake of breath on the other end of the line and headed him off. "Furthermore Mr. Kaiba, I'm not selling. To anyone." She purposely emphasized the last two words, and waited for a second. Meanwhile her hand was scribbling a not to herself on the paper to have this investigated, and maybe looked over in international court. There had to be some rule against harassing someone, even if they were oceans away.

"Hm. Things change Miss. When you do want to sell-."

"Which I won't."

"-You'll make sure to contact me." It was more of an order than an invitation.

"Maybe if I'm kidnapped by aliens." Amber muttered testily.

"Don't get sarcastic with me." He snapped, then seemed to calm again. "You never know, we may end up as partners." There was more than a god dose of innuendo attached to that last word, and Amber made a face again, even though he couldn't see it.

"Yeah, and we might be rare specimens of an exotic breed of African dancing elephant." She said matter-of-factly. "But we're not. At least," She paused to smile to herself. "I'm not." It was really a snide remark, and she knew she shouldn't have said it, if only out of common courtesy, but he shouldn't have woken her up. Let sleeping bitches lie, was a good philosophy to live by.

"Feh," he scoffed, clearly irritated, and trying not to sound like it. "Like or not Miss, I will have that company, for here or for there."

_What the hell's that supposed to mean?_ Amber wondered but didn't bother asking, since she doubted he would answer her. Instead she said, "I'd advise you to leave me alone for awhile." She was calm and detached, something that had been leaned all these past several months. "Leave me you number, I'll get back to you when I can. But I don't have liberal amounts of time, so don't call me again." He gave her the number she could reach him at, an office phone she suspected. But he wasn't ready to let her off without one last say about the matter.

"I meant what I said, about being partners. I could help you a lot."

"If I live to be ten-thousand and see the second coming of Christ, I still won't be your partner." And she hung up the phone harshly, and stuffed it under the couch-cushions in the little sitting area. She would not be woken again for some time.

"Really little brother, you worry too much." The Pharaoh stated, a little exasperated, a little amused. Yugi's young face pouted.

"No I don't, I just worry about you." Which was sort of true. It had surprised Yami just how much his younger sibling did worry about him, especially when there had been an attempt on his life, not the Pharaoh himself. That was slightly odd in and of itself. If it had been an attempt against Yami's life, that would have made more sense. After all, why attack the prince of Egypt? It wasn't as though he were really in line to inherit the throne, and such an action would only leave the perpetrator with one deeply pissed off ruler.

Yami shook his head and ruffled his brother's hair, his expression wry. In truth he was glad his brother's worries were focused on something other than the attempt on his life. But having the child worry about something strictly adult was not his idea of a good substitute.

"I miss her too." The little boy muttered as he looked down at the red lump of cuddly fur in his lap, watching his own hands stroking Pippin idly. Yami looked sharply at his brother, but Yugi did not look up, so it wasn't clear if he had been speaking to him, or the cat. He heaved a sigh and rested his chin on his fist. There was no way in hell that he'd admit it, but he did miss his slave-girl, Amber. He missed her long soft hair, that delicate pale skin, those vibrant green eyes. It made him smile wryly again to note that he even missed how she would be so catty, so insolent and combative. She was far more interesting than the other women he had been sent. Amber was simply more interesting, and he really wasn't sure why, though her personality seemed the most readily available excuse. But what was the origin of such a nature as hers? That was what he wanted to know, if only to know her better. He heaved another sigh. Thinking constantly on all of this was making him crazy, or so he thought; and he had the nagging feeling that it was starting to drain him emotionally, as though he knew how he should feel about various situations, but all he really felt was an oppressive calm.

_Was that how she felt before she left?_ He wondered, and the thought stung rather deeply; and he wasn't sure why.

Elsewhere, Amber questioned herself for quite possibly the ten-thousandth time if she was entirely mad for doing this. She looked at the suitcase that was tall enough to come to her mid-thighs when it stood up, and heaved an agitated breath. She'd packed all that she would really need, plus some extras just in case. There was plenty of underwear, bras, shorts comfy tank tops, and nightwear that were a balance between comfortable, and concealing. The very last thing she wanted to do was give the chauvinistic Pharaoh any more ideas than he already had. That wretched dream drifted across her waking mind again and she could feel the heat in her face at the idea. Going through her bathroom, she then stuffed a few more necessities into her suitcase. Last to go was something wrapped in some random gold and red paper that had been lying around and was left over from her last gift-giving occasion. It wasn't anything really, at least that's what she thought, but maybe it would be more to someone else.

After the sickening, suffocating feeling had lifted, and she felt the hard ground again, Amber opened her eyes. Then she quickly shielded them against the hard glare of sunlight. Egyptian sunlight was very different from that of North America. She would have liked to turn back, but there was no point at the moment, she decided. This would be an exercise in the Pharaoh's education, not hers. Checking that the roll-aboard case was securely tied to the back of her new bicycle, Amber mounted the thing and pedaled, easily out speaking any normal pedestrians that lingered nearby. But if she was going to get to her self-appointed destination, it might be a good idea to keep a faster pace. She sped up and kept her eyes on her own forward path.

What felt like ages passed before Amber was effectively sneaking her way into the Pharaoh's bedchambers.

_Amateur still hasn't done anything about it either._ Amber though, while casting a wary eye around the area. The very path she had used to escape was almost totally unguarded, save for a few patrolling an outer wall, and they were easy enough to get past. Once safely inside the bathing chamber attached to the Pharaoh's bedroom, Amber breathed easy again. She had done it; she'd gotten back without getting caught. Though it was probably only by the grace of some obscure deity, or so she thought. Feeling more worn out than she was really prepared for, she slumped against the wall and came to rest sitting on the smooth cool floor. Catching her breath her grass-colored eyes focused for a few minutes on the bath. The water looking inviting, especially to a sweaty young woman who would've loved to have a good bathe. In short, she let herself be tempted. So, feeling both reluctant on the basis that an unexpected visitor might pop in at any moment, and relieved that she wasn't going to reek to high heaven for the rest of the day, Amber stripped off her clothes and sank into the water. She unbraided the length of her hair and ran her fingers through it a coupled of times, massaging her scalp and then just relaxing and letting it drift. Whenever she looked down, it seemed as though she were looking at some kind of water-plant adrift in a lazy pool, a good calm feeling. Allowing her mind to drift quite as much as her hair was, an insanely amusing idea occurred to Amber.

That was it; he could take no more of this tedium. The Pharaoh stood up and without so much as a word, walked out of his own audience chambers. He didn't want to think about anything just now and doing so seemed aggravatingly beyond his reach. It was especially true of the young woman who kept passing in and out of his mind like a constant breeze, though not as refreshing. She would not leave him in peace for even a few minutes, and Yami was certain it was driving him mad. He was glad his brother was currently elsewhere and did not see him lose his composure so easily. It didn't really matter that the commoners saw that, they would make what they would of it. But he did not like to think of how his little brother would react. The notion made the muscles in his stomach tie in knots. So with one thing and another, it was probably a good thing he had decided to lie down, if only for a little while, just to let the stress work it's way out in the most harmless way possible. Shoving hid doors open, then leaning against them once they were closed again, it was a few minutes before he noticed something odd. There appeared to be a figure lying on his bed; he blinked hard to make sure. There was a young woman on his bed. At first glance it was hard to say whether she was dead, or just resting there, looking like a corpse. He came closer on soft footsteps not even noticing that he was being so quiet. When he was maybe five feet from the bed, realization and recognition hit him with the full force of a charging chariot.

"Amber…" the sound that was her name passed his lips without him even knowing it. She was just lying there as prone and motionless as a wooden doll. She was clothed in something simple and white, though for some reason it wrapped all the way around her legs separately. Her hands rested on her upper abdomen neatly folded together to suggest peace, as if she had recently died and was not yet mummified. The long tresses were loose and seemed to curl in rebellious waves. Reaching out reverently, Yami touched the long silken-looking threads and felt a chill run through him. Her hair was damp. _As though she were drowned._ He couldn't help thinking. It was then, staring into her face, her closed eyes, that he noticed the tension there. It was like all the muscles in her face were straining against something, but what? The Pharaoh leaned forward, and with a painful knot forming in his chest, he cradled her face in his hands and softly kissed her forehead. But when he felt a feather-light touch of warm lips on his cheek, he jerked sharply away. There was Amber still lying there on his bed, but now she was smiling up at him, and her eyes, those impossibly green eyes were open.

"Jeez, you really missed me that much?" She remarked. "I should run away more often."


	7. Gifts and DinnerTime Philosophy

Author's note: I just wannaapologize for making you all wait so long. I'M IN OVER MY HEAD HERE! Too much has happened in a short space of time. But I got another chapter! Woo-HOOO! SO yeah, enjoy and let me know what you think LOVE you all for reviewing!

Chapter 7: Gifts And Dinner-Tim Philosophy

Yami, needless to say, was not so amused.   
"HOW is this even remotely funny?" He demanded to know, having to speak (Yell) over Amber's fits of giggles.

"You should have seen the look on your face! Your eyes were as big as saucers!" And she dissolved yet again into a long bout of laughter. The Pharaoh would have found this all just as amusing, just not in this configuration of events. At the moment, he was waiting for her hysteria to subside so he could make a few things PERFECTLY clear.

"Are you quite finished?" He asked when she finally calmed a bit.

She took one look at his face and snorted a "No!" before she was a shaking mass of mirth again. The Pharaoh could only heave a long irate sigh and rub his temples with his fingers again as he sat back down on the edge of the bed; it seemed that his headache had been running ever since Amber's absence, but her presence was not really helping at the moment. "Migraine?" She asked when she had finally calmed down for real this time.

"No, headache." He replied stiffly, to which she could only arch an eyebrow, and look skeptical. Amber looked as though she was just about to say something sarcastic, but a knock at the door stopped her, and both looked up as a pair of soft violet eyes and mess of spiky hair peeped through the opening. The Pharaoh's so-called slave, was only aware of a small body with spiky hair running towards her at top speed, and either shrieking or laughing her name, just before all the wind was knocked out of her. It felt as though the small pair of arms around her was trying to constrict her with affection.

"Hi Yugi!" She just barely choked out.

"Amber! I missed you!" He squealed, hugging her tighter, and not noticing that she winced, because (being smallish) his face was somewhere other than level with hers.

"Really? I hadn't noticed!" She squeaked, from lack of oxygen as well as increasing physical pain.

The Pharaoh on the other hand was busy thanking the gods for this form of what was clearly divine retribution. Amber would not do anything to hurt Yugi; he knew that. So it was therefore inconceivable that she would do much to dissuade him from hugging, or in this case smothering her. Yami was just wondering how many of Amber's ribs his little brother had succeeded in cracking, and how many of his own had been damaged from beating down the urge to burst out laughing. But these thoughts were shortly disrupted by a mass of red fur making its presence known by leaping elegantly onto the bed.

Pippin the cat sat on his haunches next to Yami, and looked at the little prince and young woman with an expression only a cat can give; it was the kind of look that said, _Well Miss? Just where have you been?_

"Hey Pippin-baby!" Amber just managed to get out, still being hugged to death. The cat's tail twitched back and forth as if it was contemplating her punishment, which it probably was. "Uh, Hey, Yugi?" Amber said with her last bit of breath, hoping to get his attention and have him let up before she passed out. It worked. The child loosened his grip enough to look up at her with almost comically wide, happy eyes. "I brought something back for you that I thought you might like."

This grabbed the attention of both males. Yugi smiled up at her and wondered what she could have gotten him, and why. His elder brother on the other hand, was wondering what trick, if it was a trick, she was thinking of playing on the boy. He kept his sharp purple eyes on Amber's every move as she clambered off the bed and opened some oddly shaped case, or trunk or whatever the thing was. When she settled back on the bed she held the thing out to Yugi. It seemed to be something made of red and gold, but the actual substance was rather flimsy, even more so than papyrus-paper.

Yugi, still clearly not sure what to make of the thing took it, and held it as though it were made of glass, or delicate eggshells. "Thank you." He said to Amber, who looked a bit confused for a moment.

"The gift is inside the wrapping sweetie." She said with a smile. She reached out and flipped it over in his hands to show him the back. "See? The paper comes up and apart there." She pointed to the place where it had been taped.

Carefully as he could, Yugi pried up the paper and tape, keeping it remarkably intact and whole. What was inside, now lay on the opened and unfolded wrapping. It was quite possibly the strangest thing either of the two Egyptians had ever seen. A spider's web with tiny glittering beads in it was pulled tightly to a circular cloth-covered frame. From one end was a loop of fine cording, and from the other was a bit more of the same cording, though with beads and feathers hanging down from the ends.

"Wow, what IS it?" Yugi asked in wonder, not touching the thing, because he was not sure if he really should.

Yami watched his slave smile as she picked the thing up by the loop of cord and held it up for his little brother to see. "It's a Native American Dream-Catcher." She said.

"Uh, what does it do?" Yugi asked exactly what Yami wanted to know.

"Well, it works as a sort of protection." She explained, to the renewed intrigue of the brothers. "You hang it over your bed and it catches bad dreams and bad spirits, while it lets good dreams and things through the beads. It holds the bad dreams until the morning light comes and POOF!" She made a little exploding motion with her hands

"Oh, WOW! Does it really work?" Yugi asked looking in awe at the thing.

"It always worked for me." Amber said smartly, and that was apparently good enough for the child.

Yugi hugged her again and then backed off so she could breathe. "Thank you!" He said as she placed the thing gently in hid hands. "You didn't have to."

"I know I didn't have to; I wanted to." She told him smiling with an emotion Yami supposed was a sense of maternity in her.

Yugi turned to his brother with a smile so wide I nearly touch both ears. "Can I hang this in my room?" He asked eagerly.

Yami allowed only a mild smile as he nodded, and his brother dashed out of the room, the door shutting none too gently behind him. The Pharaoh hadn't noticed, but in the intrigue of the little gift, his headache had seemed faraway and forgotten. But now it was reminding him that it was not to be pushed aside so easily as that.

Meanwhile, Amber was sitting there, cross-legged, stoking Pippin, and determinedly avoiding eye contact with the ruler of Egypt. There was an image in her mind of what might happen if she looked up at him; something along the lines of seeing him grinning like a fiend, and pouncing on her. But it wasn't the fact that he might do this that scared her so much as the possibility, however remote, that she might actually like what he would do to her. That dream that she had had still left her deeply shaken. There was no doubt in her mind that he was physically appealing, but that attitude of his was something that might make her bash in her own skull if left alone with him long enough.

Yami knew well enough that she was averting her gaze on purpose. Her whole body seemed tense, and he doubted it was from any residual pain left by his brother's hug-attack. She was determined to ignore his presence, and he of course would not tolerate being ignored like this. Inching closer, he did not miss how stiff and forced her movements had become. The silence stretched for a time, but Yami had the feeling it would be best to let her speak first.

Eventually the edgy lack of sound got to her, and Amber took a deep steadying breath before speaking. "Just tell me honestly, your brother hasn't been blaming himself has he?" She asked without preamble. There was no need for her to explain what subject she was referring to. There was a pause, and Amber wondered if it would have been better to have just kept her mouth shut and not ask anything.

"He did for a time." The Pharaoh's voice was level, not angry, not sad, and not happy; it would have been better if he'd ground the words out, or yelled them or something. This lack of feeling in his tone was scary because this did not seem like him.

"And?" Amber asked, now sparing him a glance out of the corner of her eye.

"I told him not to." At this, Amber looked up sharply, and the expression on her face was a cautious one, though a bit angry too. "He was not the one who threw the knife." Yami's face was almost a mirror of hers, except for the obvious fact that they did not share the same face. "And he did not ask you or anyone else to shield him." He added this with a roughened tone, as though daring her to argue against him. And he was a little surprised when the look she was giving him shifted. Now Amber's expression was softer, maybe even a little surprised.

She looked back at the cat sitting next to her. A sigh passed her lips as she began to stroke Pippin again. "You're a good brother, you know." She said quietly, her eyes closed.

There was a lot he picked up on in that simple sentence. She was saying he did the right thing; she was saying that she didn't blame Yugi for the incident: nor did she blame him, the Pharaoh, for it; and she was glad that he had said what he'd said to the boy. It was sort of strange how she could be so profound without having actually said much.

Yami brought a hand up and rested it on her left shoulder. The pale pink line on her upper arm had not gone unnoticed. After giving her shoulder a brief squeeze, he let his fingers trace over the scare that the assassin's knife had left. Amber gave an unsettling shift, probably covering a shudder, or so the Pharaoh thought.

"Are you well?" His voice broke Amber from her state of mind.

"Do you mean mentally or physically?" She asked sounding frustrated, though he could not think why.

"Both." He replied, with that same emotionally lacking tone he had used only minutes ago.

The Pharaoh's slave-girl heaved a long sigh and ran her fingers through her own semi-damp locks. "Physically, I'm ginger-peachy." She said with a surprisingly matter-of-fact tone. "When I got home, I went to my doctor's office and had the cut checked out-."

"My own physician examined your wound. There should have been no problem." Yami interrupted, eyes narrowed a bit.

"You trust your doctor and I trust mine." Amber replied flatly. "Anyway, he put me one some antibiotics to make sure there wouldn't be any infection. The worst I'll ever have is that mark." She gestured to the scar on her arm. "I can cope with that." Yami only nodded at this.

When she did not go on, it seemed necessary to prod her just a little. "And mentally?" He asked carefully, not sure if she would flare up again or not.

With yet another heave of breathe she shook her head sending the long tresses waving. "I'm pretty sure I've had a complete break-down."

"Why do you say that?" He wanted to know, because she did not seem unhinged, at least not from what he could tell.

Now her expression had turned pointed again. "I came back here didn't I?"

_Ah, there it is._ The Pharaoh thought with a smirk curving the corners of his lips. He knew that sarcastic, fiery side of her must still be in there somewhere. _So there's really nothing wrong with her._ He was surprised at the relief in his own thoughts, but chose to ignore it for now.

Amber felt the bed shifting beside her again, and her head snapped upwards when she felt a pair of strong arms around her shoulders, hugging her, shoulder first, to a firm masculine chest.

"The hell do you think you're doing?" She asked, and tried to back away a bit, seeing the smirk on his face. It was never a safe thing when he had that look on his face. But his arms only tightened further around her and would not allow her to ease away.

"You're amusing when you're annoyed like this." The Pharaoh told her, still grinning, and leaning in a bit closer.

"You just like seeing me unnerved." Amber said tartly, looking irritably at anything but him.

"Yes." His breath tickled over her ear. "What's your point?" He asked when he felt her shift uneasily again to cover the shiver her body gave.

"Will you back off?" She said through gritted teeth. "I'm in no mood to deal with your antics, not after the morning I had."

"Hmm, was it that bad?" If she hadn't known better, Amber would have sworn that his majesty had added a good healthy dose of innuendo to that question. So, with irritation peeking yet again, she looked at him and gave the kind of smile that hinted insanity. At least, she would have looked crazed if He hadn't known better.

"Oh, you know. The kind that leaves you with the urge to wake up and kill something." The Pharaoh's grip had loosened a bit, but was now snug again as he rested his chin on her shoulder.

"And what do you feel now?" It was either his breath or his eyelashes that touched her flushing skin and Amber could not tell which because she was making a good effort at pretending not to notice. It was not an easy thing to do, especially since Yami seemed to know that she was faking this. And in a way, it amused him to watch her shut her beautiful eyes tightly and look as stubborn as ever- determined not to acknowledge what he was doing to her. Feeling the need-and not knowing why- he brought one hand up and pushed some stray locks back from her face. It was a gesture of tenderness, but it only stuck him as such a moment after he'd done it. The only response this got out of Amber was her taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly again. For a moment, the Pharaoh wondered if it was his touch, or even just his presence that was bothering the young woman. But he didn't want to believe it was that, or at least not that alone. There must be something else eating at her for her to be acting like this. He laid a soft kiss on her cheek, though h would have liked to have done more than that, and used his fingers to turn her face to his again. "What's the matter?" It was clear that his slave was surprised at his actions, or so he though from the look on her face.

For her own part, Amber was not all that surprised by Yami's actions, but rather by the tone he had just used. To her, it had sounded that that calm, rational, distinctly adult tone of voice that lives in the back of each individual's head; it was the kind of voice that scolded you when one did something they knew was wrong, and the same one that held the need of dignity and grace when celebrating a victory of any kind. Yes, his tone hand sounded like that voice, gentle yet serious.

But she recovered from her shock enough to say, in a tired voice, "It's nothing you need to worry about, I can handle it."

This, naturally, did not sit will with the ruler of Egypt. "You belong to me; therefore your problems are my problems." He said patiently, though with a slight edge in his deep voice.

"So you have a certain time of the month too?" Amber remarked with a wicked little half-smile, which was really a half-smirk.

"Don't be cheeky with me." He warned as though he were a father admonishing a child.

"It's my nature, can't help it now." She said loftily and passing a shrug through her shoulders.

"And wouldn't if you could, you've a mighty high opinion of yourself." He remarked smartly. Though he couldn't help thinking, _She really is like a cat._ The way she seemed to shift one mood into the next and be so collected at times and so broken at other times, it was strangely impossible. But then again, so was everything else about her.

"Uh, do you mind letting me go?" Her question brought him back out of this thoughts and he looked at her with curiosity. "I'd like to do something with my hair before it gets any wilder." She said, motioning to her own head.

Now the Pharaoh had had her around him jut long enough to know how her hair looked when it was down, because during her last stay, her long soft mane had always been down and loose. So one could hardly blame him for being curious as to what she would do with it this time. With this in mind, he backed off and made himself comfortable, the better to see what she would do.

Amber slid off the bed, with more grace than the action was really supposed to be afforded, and opened up her suitcase again. Finding a hairbrush was no difficulty, but it took a little time to find an elastic hair tie. But she found one, a black sparkly one, and slipped it over her right wrist for safekeeping until she would need it. She had to start brushing her hair at the bottom of the length first; that way there would not be as many snags and knots to work out as she went through it.

Yami was entranced by the whole thing, which seemed almost like some kind of ritual from his point of view. His own hair never posed such a problem, it simply grew the way it was: spiky, many-colored, and all over the place. Watching her, he somehow gained the mental impression of a lion using its forepaws to comb through its own mane. But now that it was all brushed out, she started to do something else with it.

_Why is she weaving it like that?_ He wondered as her hands worked their way through her tresses, steadily turning the mass into a long rope-like cord. At length she was finishing weaving the very end of the hair-rope and slipped the sparkly black thing over her wrist and around the end of her woven hair. Now he could see it ended in a single saucy little curl. Yami was not sure he altogether liked her new hairstyle; it reminded him too much of a rope, or a long poisonous snake. Needless to say, he did not like either image at all. "I like it better down." He commented as she turned back to face him. And he noted with some measure of disappointment that it robbed her of a kind of elegance that he had not noticed she had.

"Tough, it's MY hair." She stated as though the matter were now closed. This obviously did not please Yami. However, still thinking on how like a rope it now looked, game him an idea.

_I know I'll never hear the end of this._ He though with almost a rueful expression, except that he was smiling way too much. He reached out one hand and took a good firm grip, pulling gently back. Amber, of course, arched right over backwards so that now she was supporting herself one her hands and looking up at an upside-down Pharaoh. He was still grinning.

"It's not a bell-pull!" She ground out through clenched teeth.

He chuckled at that. "Dinner will be ready soon. And you will need to get ready." At her confused expression he went on. "Put on some proper clothes."

"I'm not wearing that scanty little thing again." They young woman scoffed quickly. Yami blinked.

"Then what do you intend to do? Go naked?"

"Oh I bet you'd like that." Was Amber's flat remark. "I'll wear my shirt and a pair of shorts thanks." She continued briskly.

"A pair of what?" It probably should have dawned on Amber that the ruler of Egypt wouldn't have a clue what she was talking about. And more over, she didn't really care to explain.

"Consideration for female privacy please!" she said sharply, picking up a some oddly shaped blue clothing and settling both hands on her hips.

"Excuse me?" His expression was a bit arched and not at all in the humorous way. In fact he was starting look annoyed again.

"Turn around." She actually ordered, and added as an afterthought, "You Neanderthal." But she was foolish of her to think that he would do so even when she had turned her back to him. Probably thinking that he had done what was good, and proper and all the rest of that rot, the Pharaoh's slave pulled off the long fuzzy leg-coverings and set them aside.

_What in the world is she WEARING?_ Yami was about ready to yell this out when he saw, quite clearly, the odd, flowery pattered cloth clinging around the most intimate area of a woman's body. He had never known any woman who wore something like that, and it was not for lack of experience either. Although it was often not as easy as many would think, there were definitely some perks to being the Pharaoh. And he continued to watch, without the slightest sense of guilt, as she pulled the blue clothing over her legs and up higher, thus covering her backside and the floral patterned thing. There was a sound as of something being ripped, but he would not have recognized that this was a zipper. When she turned to face him again he quickly averted his eyes so as to not incur her wrath just yet. By all accounts, she was being positively civil.

"You can look now, you shameless pervert." So he did, and saw that the blue clothes were like her other leg-coverings, only much shorter falling to about the mid-thigh area. She was wearing the same short kind of tunic as before, when he had first entered his room and found her lying there.

"Why not wear what is proper for a slave of your standing?" He asked, and for a moment there was rage in her pretty face.

But instead of an eruption, she shoved a sigh out of her lungs and said, "Because I prefer clothing that I won't fall right out of." And that was where Yami left that soon to be argument, since there was no point pursuing it, and since they would likely miss dinner and probably desert as well if he did.

"C'mon." He said gesturing towards the doors. "We'll be late for dinner."

"How can you be late for your own meal?" Amber asked a bit sarcastically as they left the Pharaoh's private chambers behind.

"It is possible." Yami merely stated. After that, the remainder of the walk was a subdued affair.

Now as they stood outside the dining hall, the Pharaoh felt the need to point something out again. "You realize you're going to endure a great deal of staring?" It sounded more like a statement than a question.

"They normally stare at me don't they?" Amber pointed out dryly.

"And never forget, you are my slave here," Yami could see her opening her mouth furiously to argue, but headed her off. "Behave yourself tonight, and no one will dare lay a finger on you. The gentry are a flock of sheep, but there are a few wolves among them; do not give them any excuse to make a move." And Yami suspected, without much proof, that these words had a more profound effect on his slave than he had initially expected.

Amber had opened her mouth to retaliate, seemed to be failed by words, and shut it again and shook her head. "You think they're really that dense?"

"Some of them." He replied with a nod. With that issue now settled, they entered, Amber playing her role by following a good three feet behind her "Master."

Dinner was more or less just as usual from Amber's point of view. There was a great deal of talk- not all of it related to her, thankfully- orders barked every now and again, a little political banter back and forth, and of course Yami never missing an opportunity to make his rather attractive slave do whatever he wanted, even if he didn't really need it. Under this duress- at least she was pretty sure that that was the proper categorization for her situation- Amber poured wine, was made to taste it because he told her to, was instructed to sampled each of the foods he ate, serve said dinner to him bite by bite, and was more or less coerced into promising him a massage after dinner. She promised herself that he would pay for making her jump through these ridiculous hoops. And she logically figured that this was his way of punishing her without the use of chains, whips, knifes or any other instruments of physical torture.

Presently, the Pharaoh held out his cup, and- resisting the urge to empty the wine decanter over his head- Amber filled the cup without any outward sign of her inner thoughts.

"Your Majesty must really visit some day soon." The man to the Pharaoh's left was saying fervently. This man, though not unattractive, looked to be somewhere in his late 40s or early 50s. He was in good physical form, not bloated like the stereotypical image of something like a roman emperor. And his hair and eyes were both of fair color, though this was due to the fact that his hair was nearly white, although his eyes were a blue-gray color. The robes, jewels and decorations he wore indicated that he was a person of some great importance back home, but even so, to Amber he was quite transparent. Apparently, Yami was thinking something of the sort too.

"Arishaka, my friend, as fascinating as Babylon undoubtedly is," Amber wondered if she correctly interpreted the hint of sarcasm in the Pharaoh's voice. "Why should I want to leave the comfort of my home, and people behind?" At the word 'people' he had caught Amber by one wrist and pulled her very close indeed, nearly more than what was considered decent in these times. This would have left the young woman wondering if thee was a concept of decency in the part of the world yet, but what happened next grabbed her attention.

"There is much to see and do there; and besides, a visit may, well, inspire me to have a nice talk with one of my daughters." Here he gave a very suggestive look at both Yami and Amber. "They are all of prime age to wed, and after all, travel is so broadening, wouldn't you agree?"

"That depends on what you mean by 'broadening.'" The Pharaoh said as he looked up at his slave and grinned in a way that reminded her of a kid getting ready to play a really nasty trick. Both men laughed as she huffed and rolled her pretty green eyes. Well, at least they found her amusing.

"Well, you never know, one of them may take a fancy to Your Majesty. And young and attractive as they are…" The man, Arishaka, left the sentence unfinished so as to take a bite of food and a swig of wine. "Each of them was raised in the best society, any one of them would make a perfect wife for the right-." But here he stopped and he was not the only one who looked at the Pharaoh's fair-skinned slave. She had made a derisive noise, which was none too discrete, and had a certain kind of expression on her face. It was the sort of look that plainly says, "What fools these mortals be."

Playing at calm annoyance, though secretly curious, Yami looked up at her. "You have something to say? Then say it." It was both a command and a challenge but she seemed utterly unshaken by it.

"That remark about a perfect wife; perfection doesn't exist, anyone can tell you that." Amber had to restrain herself from sounding overly superior, but it was damned difficult to do, especially since it had been clear that Yami held little or no interest in the prospect of bedding his friend's daughters.

"Insolence! You should learn your place here slave!" Arishaka barked at her as though this were his own household. But he silenced as the Pharaoh held up a hand.

It would never sit right with Yami to have anyone, even a friend or ally, usurping his role as master of the household, and Ruler of Egypt. "Let her speak." He then turned to Amber, now facing her fully. Now it really was a challenge, and he wanted to see and know what she would do about it. "Well speak up. How is it that perfection is impossible?"

"It's simple." She replied with a tone that showed both poise and controlled demeanor. "Everyone has their own idea about what it means to be perfect. A perfect house, a perfect meal, a perfect game, a perfect life…"She ticked them off on her fingers as she went on. "The thing is, since everyone has their own idea, their own variation of what a perfect 'whatever' is, what may be perfection to one person, will not be so for another. Doesn't that make sense?" She only asked that last question because nearly all who had been paying attention were now sitting either with dumfounded facial expressions, or else sat with their mouths hanging open. Yami on the other hand was looking a bit smug, though Amber was not sure why. And the man named Arishaka was looking quite angry at this obvious display of intellect.

"You're out of line slave!" He snarled at her, and sent a cup's worth of wine flying in her direction. His Majesty was about to intervene, but his slave had already ducked, the wine sailing past her uninhibited until it splashed all over a guard. She stood straight again, and the Pharaoh was not the only one to feel as if they did not see a slave but rather a calm collected young woman, who held more power in a word than most of then held in an army.

"There is no line." Now the man's jaw did drop, and Amber gave a fiendish grin all her own. "Or didn't you know that?"

"I don't know what you thought you were playing at." It would have sounded like His Majesty had gotten his undies in a twist, if it weren't for two facts: one, Amber seriously doubted hat he bothered with underwear of any kind, and two he was smiling and looking so amused at the whole absurdity of the evening.

"Well damn! Could he BE a little more obvious?" She laughed without restraint, not fearing reprimand now. They were both in his bedchambers, just sort of lolling about on his over-sized bed since there really wasn't anything else to do. Amber had changed back into her soft leg-coverings, which Yami learned were called, "Pajama-pants."

"Why are they all so obsessed with the notion of me marrying?" If he hadn't been laughing, it would have been a very serious question. And Amber decided to take it that way, but still in jest.

"Well, let's see. First, you're a man in power. Second, marriage suggests children, children suggests a stable line of succession. Third, plenty of women would die to be married to you because it means some security, and a cushy lifestyle for the rest of their days; also it doesn't hurt that you're pretty good-looking." She added this as more just a little side-comment, but it did not pass Yami's attention as such. But she plowed on anyway. "And forth, those related to anyone you marry will probably use whatever influence they gain from the union to every conceivable advantage." The Pharaoh was still staring at her as she finished. "What? It's all pretty likely isn't it?"

Whatever his foolish opponents may think, the Ruler of Egypt was not stupid. He knew how petty and selfish people usually were. What struck him was the fact that a slave-girl knew it and knew how to comment about it. And he concluded that her intelligence was far to great to be the result of listening at doors or observing the comings and goings of any previous master. Someone had clearly taught her how to think, and more over, how to think for herself.

_And if that's true, then she must be of quite high standing whereever she's from._ After all, even the very wealthiest of women in Egypt were rarely taught such things. A woman's place was in the home and in her husband's bed, not a library or political meeting. "So, what would your advice be?" As soon as he had asked this, he wondered if it was completely out of curiosity. After all, she was an intelligent, attractive woman.

Amber's teeth worried her bottom lip for a moment, and she looked at the ceiling, trying to think without wondering why he looked at her the way he did. "Well," She paused, getting her thoughts together again. Then she let out a breath. "Offend reason and do what you think is right, but not just for the people." He stared at her, wondering… "Well it's your life too, you know." Sighing and giving a smile, Yami stretched out on the bed next to his slave and rolled over so that he lay on his stomach in front of her. "Now what are you up to?" She almost sounded exasperated, but was still feeling the effects of the laughter to really care about his antics tonight.

"You promised me a massage, did you not?" He reminded her while smirking and folding his arms under his chin.

"Under duress, you shameless creature." She remarked trying to look saucy.

"But you did promise."

"Only because you made me." Yami did not say anything more, but he lay there and smirked up at her like the cat that knew he'd already gotten he canary. "You're a foul unethical bully." Amber stated grumpily. But the Pharaoh knew she didn't mean it from the first touch of her soft hands on his bare back. As she started to work through the kinks and strains from the past few months, Yami made up his mind that she would not leave the palace again so easily. The next time she tried an escape he would have her followed. This however was his last coherent thought, at least for a time. In the wake of the warmth and relaxation Amber was giving him, Yami's mind drifted in and out of wakefulness.

Eventually he became aware of his own breathing, how much it had slowed, and how very like jelly his whole body now felt. But it was not an unpleasant sensation. And here and there he could still feel his slave's hands working along his flesh. Moving his leaden-feeling arm, he gently caught her by the wrist. Amber looked to his face, a puzzled expression decorating her own tired features.

"Lie down." The Pharaoh said in a sleep-drugged voice. Amber was indeed tired, and could feeling it in the aching behind her eyes. So for once, she did as he asked without any resistance. Despite the feeling that his whole body must now be made of iron and lead mixed together, Yami made himself sit up, and pull the blankets over both of them. When he lay down alongside her again, he put both his arms around her waist, pulling her flush with his body. Amber gave one irritated and indecipherable grumble. "Sleep now." It was the gentlest tone she had heard him use, ever. She glanced up at him, seeing his eyes half-lidded and hazy with the need for rest.

"Good night." Amber said through a yawn.

Unbeknownst to her, she snuggled up to His Majesty only minutes after she had fallen asleep. But he was still awake, watching as his slave-girl lost herself in the land of dreams and visions. There was a soft blush in her fair cheeks, and a light smile on those very tempting lips. Bringing one hand up, Yami delicately traced the edges of her mouth, fascinated, though still sleepy. All he allowed himself was the softest brush of his lips on hers before finally settling his head on the pillows, his nose near the crown of her head, and letting sleep wash over him in one long, sweeping, warm embrace.

A set of unwelcome eyes looked in on the slumbering pair. And although the owner of said eyes could presently do nothing, he knew how to wait. He knew patience, even if he didn't like it. Right now, he could not even strike at the little Prince, not since that girl had given the child some talisman, or charm or whatever it was. Whatever spell she had woven about the two royal brothers, he would have to be careful. She may have already caught onto him. It was possible, since he was absolutely sure she had seen him that first time; that time when he had just barely missed, and cut her arm.


	8. Far Too Early

Chapter 8; Far Too Early

The early-morning sun rose almost too fast to catch, so that one moment the sand dunes were barely glittering, and the next they were flashing back enough golden light to dazzle the eye. Not that the Pharaoh could see all this from his current position, but as the light crept in past the sheer hangings around his bed, it seemed that Ra was determined to have him awake.

Royal purple eyes cracked open, then shut tightly again at the sting of sudden light. Yami heaved a sigh and shifted a bit trying to get comfortable enough to fall asleep again. But the body lying next to him, seemed to be made of lead and would not move an inch. This of course was a problem, since the Pharaoh's hand was resting under the face of his slave-girl, and he felt no particular need to disturb the peace this early in the day. Instead, he merely heaved another resigned sigh, and managed to rearrange himself back to his original position, which wasn't very hard. But sleep was proving to be a fickle mistress just now, and the Ruler of Egypt only groaned to himself in frustration. But at this noise, Amber stirred a bit. Yami watched her intently, but she simply snuggled in closer to him and went on sleeping. In a way, it was quite funny, because she always seemed to have such a strong aversion to him while she was conscious, and also instead of resting her face on his hand, she was now using his upper arm as a pillow. The Pharaoh grinned to himself, imagining her reaction when she woke up to find herself in such close proximity to him. Hell there was already a light blush in her soft cheeks.

Looking her over, while he was free to do so without receiving a glare, he frowned as he noticed her hair, still in that tightly woven braid. How on earth could she sleep like that? He was certain he couldn't even if he tired. Feeling the oddest need to do so, and not being able to explain to himself why, the Pharaoh carefully maneuvered his hands around to the tied end of the girl's hair. There was still that saucy little curl in it. But it was that sparkly stretchy thing she had put around the end. Most women who tied their hair back used sting, ribbon, or the more aristocratic used heavy golden thread or hair ornaments. This thing however, was entirely different. As he stretched and relaxed the thing on his fingers it glittered with black sparkles. He stretched it on his fingers again and it slipped over his thumb and shot past his forefinger to the other side of the room, landing with a soft "ping." Yami blinked at the small event. Then feeling movement, he glanced back at the woman still sleeping in his arms. Amber was now nuzzling firmly against his shoulder, the way a cat might do when it wants attention. The Pharaoh allowed himself a smile- just a very small one. Going back to the braid, he began to unweave it, with proved no difficulty. At least she had had the sense to do something simple with it. Women could be so peculiar when it came to matters of hairstyles. The Ruler of Egypt forced down a chuckle at the memory of some of the women he had received as a gift, and later received in his bed. Among the more ridiculous had been a few who wore far too many gold and bejeweled hairpins holding the mass in intricately patterned knots. And there had been one woman who had been decorated with all manner of glass beads, gently clinking seashells, and delicate arrangement of prized birds' plumage. To the credit of those who had dressed her, she had looked quite exotic, and he even told her so every now and again. And she had had such lovely dark skin, darker than his own, as a matter of fact.

The last two insets of woven hair had come loose at last and Yami came out of his thoughts only to run his finger through the now excessively wavy locks. It was nice- he decided still gazing at Amber's sleeping face- when a woman kept her hair loose or in a simple fashion at most. Then it was no trouble to deal with in any circumstances.

The young man still lying in his bed, was only vaguely aware of the soft texture of hair he was still running his hands through, and pressing his lips against.

_That feels nice._ He though as he recalled more than one pleasant encounter. Not that any of them had really meant anything of course. It had been human contact that was all. It was fun, pleasure, and a great physical release, particularly on those nights where sleep evaded him. And it wasn't as though he'd forced any one of them to lay down bare, and do as he said or else. Yami understood his position even before his current age- a young age for a King. He knew that he was expected to be intimidating no matter the situation, be it he bureaucracy, the battlefield, or the bedchambers. Perhaps that had been why most of the women he invited to his bed had complied so readily. There had been one or two that refused him, then immediately collapsed on the floor in tears begging his Highness to spare them and the lives of their families. On those few occasions, he recalled one instance as his arms hugged around the feminine body next to him- that he had knelt down beside the fallen, terrified woman in question. There was the memory of putting his arms loosely around the shaking form of a Spainish girl as she sobbed through a thick accent. One of his hands had rubbed soothing circles on her still-clothed back as he let her cry against his shoulder. And when she was calm enough to only sit there and hiccup, he'd eased back from her, holding her at arm's length with a sympathetic smile on his face. And judging by her face, whatever reaction she had expected, this had clearly not been it.

Now, Yami smiled against the top of his newest slave-girl's head. The Pharaoh had been absolutely tender when dealing with the more hysterical of the opposite sex. Nowadays he sometimes wondered what had become of the Spanish girl, for she no longer resided in the palace with him. At the time, he had softly wiped away the remaining tears from the girl's face and told her to listen to him carefully. Thus the Ruler of Egypt told her, in no uncertain terms, that she did not have to sleep with him if she did not wish; nor would any harm come to her or her family as a result. At that her wide dark eyes had looked all but disbelieving. At the Pharaoh's offer to take her back to her family, her lower-lip had trembled, and she promptly burst into tears again, this time throwing her arms around his shoulders in an almost painful hug.

At that memory, he did chuckle, a low, warm, rumbling sound. But it seemed sleep preferred Amber to him just now, for she snoozed on, apparently deaf to his slight laughter.

_Amber,_ He thought as he arched his neck, the better to look into her face. _Funny, I've shared a bed with her, slept next to her, but not slept WITH her._ In a way, it was funny- the sort of funny, which nobody would be gullible enough to believe if they knew of it. And as he thought on it, Yami became aware that his right hand kept trailing along the side of the young woman next to him. His hand paused, and finally stopped, on her hip. She was still wearing those odd nightclothes. The shirt had ridden up a little in sleep, enough to show some bare waist.

Without giving it any real thought, the Pharaoh found himself studying her figure once again. Not that the pastime displeased him. On the contrary, he liked what he found. Fair skin like hers was very rare indeed for this part of the world. _Ivory, gold, and coral, like something made for a King or…_ He stopped himself before he could be tempted to think of any other idea. For whatever reason, he didn't' like to think that she might be meant for anyone, or anything other than himself. Richly purple eyes watched as the girl slept on. Yami watched the swell and fall of her breasts, though they were still hidden behind that damnable shirt. Watched as her ribs expanded and shrank with breath. He studied the way her shoulders and upper body curved and tapered to her nicely formed waist and hips. It occurred to him that she was really not so skinny as some women. How anyone found appeal in a female with no curve to her was beyond him. But at the same time, she was not so voluptuous as to be obscene. She had just the right figure for bearing children.

A moment later, it seemed as though that particular though had cuffed him sharply around the head. _Now why did I think of that?_ He wondered, and failed to answer his own question. Trying to dismiss it as idle though didn't help at all. He tried to tell himself that she wasn't the maternal type, only to be bombarded with memories of how she'd kept an eye on Yugi, and taken that knife-wound for the boy. And he didn't even bother with trying to convince himself that she was too young, given her age was so very close to his own. _There's no one she'd want to have children with._ That though gave him peace for all of five minutes. When all was said and done, he had no idea where she had been in her long absence. For all he knew, she had found another man, stayed in his house, maybe more besides.

Yami grunted with irritation. No, Amber wasn't that sort, was she? She had morals of that he could be certain. Now that thought did comfort him as he recalled what a fuss she'd made when she had been more or less forced to wear the more esthetically pleasing garments. Or even when she found out that she was expected to share sleeping space with him. The Pharaoh chuckled again as he remembered that night. Although no fists had flown, no physical damage had been dealt, yet there had undoubtedly been a battle. The funny thing was that neither of them had really gotten what they wanted and had unknowingly found themselves compromising. Amber had not been allowed to sleep apart from him, but he had been denied a nights worth of pleasure. So in the end it was even, neither of them had really won.

On these sentiments it seemed that the Pharaoh's slave had more or less decided to wake. Yami caught himself before he could begin to panic about this. After all, he'd done nothing wrong, not by his standards and probably not even by hers.

Amber came back to conscious only after something very close to her had moved a little, but now she could not think what that something was. Even so, sleep was gone, and did not wish to grace her with its presence again.

_Oh well, into each life some rain must fall._ She mused with the recollection of one of her mother's favorite little maxims. Growing up, her mother had seemed full of those funny little sayings, she now realized. With a deep breath in and a slow sigh out, Amber felt a yawn and stretch coming on. Presently, she reached her hands past her head as far as they would go- ignoring the other limbs that were not hers- and pulled the length of her whole body as far as was comfortable. When she relaxed again, she felt the other set of limb- those belonging to the other bed's occupant- uncoil from her body just a little. Fighting back the urge to be overly annoyed, the young woman opened her green eyes and looked back into a pair of amethyst ones.

They were nearly nose-to-nose, and Yami fancied that he felt warmth like a sudden fever in his cheeks. A short debate between himself and his better judgment took place and was decided quickly. The Pharaoh leaned in, closing the little distance there was, and pressed his lips over hers. Gods, how long had it been since he'd touched and tasted those lips? Too long, even though it had only been a few months. Yami's arms tightened around her again, pressing her securely against his own body. He felt Amber stiffen a bit again, but after another moment her body relaxed. A soft encouraging sound escaped her throat as her right hand came up and gently gripped his shoulder. Amber wasn't exactly pulling back or shoving him away, but neither was she dragging him closer. Even so, he allowed his hands to roam over her back feeling the curves and contours of her body. She felt so good in his arms and against his whole form like that. The way she smelled, felt, and tasted, were beyond description. Nothing about her was the kind of thing one read about in books and romance novels. It occurred to him that Amber was simply herself- warm and soft and sweet. Yami didn't want to let up or let go, she tasted and felt too good.

Now Amber's nails were digging none too lightly into his shoulder. With a grunt, the Pharaoh eased away from her lips and to his own surprise, gasped for air as he stared at her.

"Sorry," She said as she too gulped down much-needed oxygen. "Needed air." She finished. It surprised her when Yami actually laughed a little as he still tried to catch his breath.

"That's alright," He said as he brought a hand to her face. "I think I needed it too." That said, his lips lightly touched her cheek, then her forehead. For a long few minutes he simply lay there, breathing in the scent of her hair, and feeling the soft kisses she put on his shoulder where her nails had dug in. At this, he glanced down at her face again. Seeing her there, eyes closed, lips against his skin, high color in her cheeks, she was quite an erotic beauty. A moment later, she had eased away and rested her head on the pillows again with a deep sigh. She felt Yami's hand come up and stroke her hair softly. With a more purposeful sigh, she rolled onto her back and stretched again.

"C'mon, we better get up." She said through a pleasant sort of groan.

"Do we have to?" The Pharaoh asked, and as Amber looked at him she smiled at the playful grin on his face.

"If we don't you know your brother's going to worry." Well, he had to admit she had a point there. And right on cue, a sharp knock came at the door. Before either of the young adults could answer, the panel opened and in bounded Yugi, fully dressed and ready for the day.

The boy paused about halfway to the bed and stared. "Am I interrupting something- that I hope I'm not-?"

"Mmm, not really." It was Amber who replied in a casual tone. The grin on her face told both brothers that she was teasing one of them, but which one was the question.

"Well, Mana woke me up this morning." This the boy said to his elder sibling. "She says Mahado and the other Priests are back." It was clear from a glance that that last sentence had held some particularly special meaning to the Pharaoh. Yami sat up and was suddenly quite awake and alert. "Isis suggested we all have breakfast together and talk afterwards."

The Pharaoh seemed to spend no more than a moment considering this; then gave a nod. "Go on ahead, we'll be there shortly." Both Amber and Yugi had given him a quizzical look at that, but he said nothing more and seemed not to notice. With a swift goodbye, the young prince practically dashed out the door. Amber glanced around as Yami came around the side of the bed, heading to the massive closet in search of clothes.

"Don't say you told me so." Yami said with a grin, just as Amber had opened her mouth.

"Well, I did though." She said with a smile, and looking utterly unruffled.

Both dressed with their back to the other. Yami was only half dressed when he chanced a glance at Amber, who was now in her day-clothes and trying to do something with her hair. She was sitting on her knees and pulling her long mane back from her face, and there was another of those odd stretchy things around her wrist- the one she now used was a sparkly dark green.

"Leave it down." Amber heard the somewhat gentle order.

She looked around at him, still holding her hair up with one hand. "Why?" She asked curiously. It had not passed her by that she had gone to sleep with her hair braided and woken up with it loose, and she had her own suspicions accordingly.

The Ruler of Egypt looked at her again, and his expression was difficult to read. "It looks nice when it's down." It sounded like a simple statement, but at the same time much more than that. With a shrug of sorts, Amber continued what she was doing and tied the ponytail at the top of her head. She had done something clever with it, pulling most of it straight back from her face letting the rest fell from the green tie like a fountain of hair. But she had worked two sections in front to hang so that they framed her face. The Pharaoh observed this with interest, and it crossed his mind that she might just be compromising between what he wanted and what she wanted. _Perhaps she has an inclination for compromise?_ It was such a trivial thing that he gave no more thought to it for the present.

Breakfast had seemed almost a subdued affair- at least it was from Amber's point of view. The Pharaoh had barely said ten words to her the whole time. The young woman correctly interpreted this to mean that his mind was somewhere other than tormenting her. It made a nice change of pace in one way, and was quite unsettling in another. Near the end of the meal, it came to her mind that she had seen some of these people before. It must've been back when she had first shown up here and been given to his Majesty as a slave.

_When was that? Three- no- four months ago._ Yes indeed it had been four months since her first debut, if one could call it that. It had been four months if she included that one where she had been more or less incapacitated because of that wound on her arm. She sighed as she thought it over yet again. But nothing new came to mind; pale hair and worn clothes, that was all she came up with and that wasn't nearly enough to figure out who the culprit might be.

"Something bothering you?" The Egyptian King's voice brought her out of her wandering thoughts.

Amber just shook her head. "No more than usual." The man seated next to the Pharaoh on his left Hmphed and looked at her with open skepticism. Amber merely spared him a glance. There wasn't much to take in beyond general appearance, that and facial expression. The person in question was of the same complexion as the rest of them with rich brown hair and even darker eyes. He wasn't exactly an old man either. If Amber had to judge, she'd have put him maybe four or five years older than the Pharaoh, but no more than that.

"You might try a little more sincerity when you say that." The priest- for he was a priest of apparently high rank if his attire was any indication- told her.

"Let me rephrase that." Amber said coolly, hands on hips. "Nothing more than the usual things of late." And she laid particular emphasis on the last two words. This communicated two things to those listening; it was something that had begun in only recent times, and principally she did not wish to discuss whatever the issue was with any of them.

Yami, for his part, was getting annoyed at this little disagreement going on almost literally over his head.

"If you two don't mind keeping the bickering to a bare minimum…" He trailed off with practiced eloquence. And naturally it achieved the desired effect of silence, though a stiff silence all the same.

"Who is she?" Asked the eldest of the Seven Priests as they stood around the Pharaoh's Main Audience Chamber. His Majesty occupying his usual seat of authority, had his chin resting in his hand.

"Remember that girl? The slave I was given just before-." He cut himself off, and glanced at the floor. It was somewhat painful to think what might've happened if Amber had not taken the blow for his brother.

"You mean the half-downed river-rat they tired to clean up?" Yami rolled his sharply purple eyes, then let them rest back on the High Priest.

"Set, need I remind you she saved my brother's life?" It was an effort to keep his voice level as he spoke. And again, a stiff silence followed

"Strange," Said the only female among them. "She looks quite different than I recall. I wonder what she's done to herself."

"It's that lion's mane of hers." Said the eldest Priest. "She found some way of taming it I suppose."

"Amber calls it braiding her hair." The Pharaoh said absently. They all stared at him in some surprise.

"She gave you her name?" Said Set.

Yami shrugged one shoulder. "I asked and she told me, though I can't think why."

"Indeed?" Now Set was challenging him again and they all knew it.

"Yes indeed." Said Yami, not caring that Set was trying to get on his nerves. Amber was supposedly cleaning his room, scrubbing the floors, changing bedclothes etc. And he nearly smiled at the homey image his mind produced. He could picture her washing the tub in his massive bathing room, or rearranging all his clothes in whatever way women will see fit at the time; or even her tucking the corners of fine silk sheets under the warm, deep bedding, sheet that she would sleep in, with him. The Pharaoh breathed out through his nose and used his thumb and forefinger to pinch his sinuses. Life could be so very hard sometimes.

"Wait, didn't she disappear for a time?" Asked the only woman, making her presence known again.

"Yes Isis, but nobody knows where she went." His Majesty said in a tired kind of voice. This wasn't the first time it had crossed his mind either. Where had Amber been in the 3 months she had been missing? People did not simply disappear in a puff of smoke or the swirl of a cape, it just didn't happen. But the fact remained that in the time and effort they had spent looking for her, all anyone had ever found was the stretch of bare sand where her footprints ended, surrounded by sand and scrubby vegetation. It was strange, of that there was no doubt, and for whatever reason in his gut, the Pharaoh had set a circle of heavy flat rocks around the spot, thought they might've been buried in the sand by now.

"We might question her, your Majesty." Suggested another priest. Yami looked up at him with a somewhat wry expression at first. Then it changed to one of consideration. He glanced up at the man with a bare, tattooed scalp.

"You know Shada, that may be worth while."

"A word of advice." Said a female voiced that the Pharaoh recognized instantly. Everyone present turned to see Amber standing nonchalantly, there in the doorway to the Egyptian King's right. Her green eyes were giving him a very sharp look indeed. "Don't ever pry into my mind, it's not a safe place to be." There was no humor in her tone, nor in her expression, and not even in those pretty eyes of hers. She was dead serious about this. Set's mouth had just opened, no doubt to make some sharp remark or other, but the girl cut him off. "You never know what might jump out and drag you back in." She finished this pronouncement over her shoulder as she turned and left a roomful of stunned people behind her. And it seemed in her sudden absence, a kind of heaviness had lifted, one which none of them had even really been aware. It was a kind of…

_Gravity._ Thought the Pharaoh, _That's what it was._ And he was right to have guessed he'd seen it in more than just her physical self, he'd seen it-just for the briefest moment- somewhere deep inside her. She was hiding something from him; hiding a great deal, in fact.


End file.
